Can't Let Go
by srsn
Summary: Anton Hill is on the warpath, the police has received Emily's files and he's after Sam. The only way to keep Sam and his loved ones safe is to make Hill believe Sam is dead. Also an attempt at giving an explanation as to why Sam is how he is.
1. Prologue

**A/N:** Finally finished the story, and boy is it a long one! With the prologue and the epilogue it's in 18 parts! It's the longest thing I have ever written.

I have to say thank you to jimi18 for providing me with yet another incredibly challenging idea! This story has been incredibly frustrating to write, but I have learnt a lot in the process and it has been interesting to see the turns it has taken from the original idea.

I also have to give thanks to dcj for her incredible help all of the times I have been stuck and unable to write! I can't thank you enough!

I would also like to thank everyone who has read, reviewed or favorited my other stories as well, it really means a lot to me!

Anyway: The story is set after episode 2, season 2. (Pre Landy engagement) The prologue really gives most of the set up for the story, and I'll post chapter 1 as well today, then I'll continue with one chapter a day until it's all out there =)

I hope you enjoy it! And please feel free to let me know what you like or don't like or ask me any questions you might have.

Without further ado; Can't Let Go:

* * *

><p>PROLOGUE<p>

Here he was.

Far away from anyone and everyone he knew. Cooped up in a small cabin near a lake he'd never even heard of. And what was he doing there? Waiting to receive notice that Anton Hill had been brought down and was finally in custody. Then and only then could return to his life in Toronto.

Sam was sitting on a bench on the patio staring out at the lake, almost dozing off. He was tired. Who wouldn't be if they had been woken up from deep sleep by their phone ringing in the middle of the night to have someone agitatedly tell you that you needed to get out in a matter of seconds and that someone would come and pick you up to take you to a safe location?

Sam hadn't had any idea of what was going on, but he had done as told, packing a few essentials, and sure enough, someone had been outside his door in no time at all to escort him to a van. Once he saw Boyd waiting in the back of the van, he got an inkling of what was going on.

Boyd had informed him that they had received a flash drive from an anonymous source that contained a lot of evidence with regards to the Hill case. Sam had smiled as the memories of working the case and of Emily flashed through his mind. He remembered how well they had worked together. How close they had gotten during his months undercover. He hoped she was doing okay at her new place.

The smile on Sam's face faded when Boyd told him that Hill had found out about the police getting a hold of the drive.

He remembered the last time he had seen Hill. He had been scared for his life as he stood in Hill's bar, face to face with him, bargaining for Emily's life. And he remembered the promise he had given:That as long as Emily walked, so would Hill, or else Hill would come after her and, as Sam knew all too well;_ him_.

"He's on the warpath." Boyd had said. "We still have a lot of work to do to be able to nail him on everything. He's gunning for you Swarek. We need to remove you."

Sam had still been sleepy and his mind had not let him think anything through. It had just accepted what had been said without second thought.

Boyd had told him that the only way to make sure both Sam and the people he cared for were safe would be if they all thought, no, _knew_, that Sam was gone.

Sam had known that by gone Boyd had meant dead.

Boyd's words had filled Sam with dread. But he had not been able to protest. He knew it was necessary and he knew that Boyd had looked into all other options before ending up with this one. After all; Sam knew he was a good guy underneath the asshole act.

Boyd proceeded telling him that they had already set it up. They had a guy undercover who had managed to work his way into Hill's goon gang. He told him that they were going to stage it to make it seem like Sam had been jumped by him and his guys and gotten killed in the process, and that they were doing it now.

Sam couldn't believe he was about to experience his own death.


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N:** As promised, chapter 1:

I hope the prologue has peaked your interest!

I'd love to hear your thoughts!

* * *

><p>CHAPTER 1<p>

It felt like she had been shot all over again.

Except the pain was higher up, inside her chest.

She felt like she should be crying, but the tears wouldn't come.

She just stood there, her chest tight and making her unable to breathe, as Best's words sunk in;

He had been shot.

He was gone.

* * *

><p>She had been excited for work that morning when she strutted into the barn. She was even early for once.<p>

She had had a couple of days off after a series of night shifts and they had gone by way too slowly as she had spent them alone in her and Luke's house. He, of course, had work as always.

She had wondered if that was how their life was going to be together, her sitting at home alone and him working. The thought had brought her down, and she hadn't had anyone to talk about it with.

Needless to say she was glad to be back at work, able to talk to her friends, to have something to do. To patrol with Sam.

She had been telling Traci about her days off and how bored she had been when she heard Best call her name.

"McNally!"

She'd turned towards his office to see him standing in the doorway with a serious look on his face, and she wondered what she had done now. She couldn't remember having screwed up too much lately and she hadn't even been at work the last couple of days.

She shot Traci a questioning look, earning a shrug in return, before walking to Best's office.

He was standing behind the desk, leaning on it, and supporting his weight on his arms when she entered.

"What's up?" She asked.

"Would you mind closing the door?"

She had a feeling something was wrong, but had no idea what it could be. She nodded affirmatively before closing the door and walking over to the desk to stand between the two chairs in front of it.

"Sit." He said. It wasn't a command, but it wasn't an invitation either. It was just a statement.

"I'll stand." She said. The feeling in the pit of her stomach was making her feel slightly queasy. What was wrong?

"I think you might want to sit down." His expression was serious, but his voice was mild and his eyes filled with empathy.

What _had_ happened?

"I'm fine." She said, holding her ground. Was he expecting her to cry from his news? Okay, so she was an emotional person, but she did have some self-control. What news could be that horrible?

"Yesterday…" Best started before straightening up and walking over to his chair to sit down.

She looked at him expectantly but he was taking his time.

"Yesterday…" He started again, and he continued this time. "Swarek was on his way to the Penny…" He trailed off again.

What was going on? Had something happened to Sam?

Come to think of it; she hadn't seen him yet this morning, but it was still early, he'd probably come walking in through the doors any minute.

Right?

"I don't know what he was going over there for on his day off, but he was." Best continued. He was looking at his hands rubbing them together slowly.

"Not far from his apartment, a gang of Anton Hill's goons blocked the road and pulled him out of his truck." Best continued, still not looking at her.

"But he's okay right?" Andy couldn't believe what he was telling her. Hadn't Hill promised to leave Sam alone after they almost busted him? Why would he send his people after Sam?

The sick feeling in her stomach was ever increasing. She knew that Best still had more to tell her, and she didn't like where her gut was telling her that his story was going.

"They beat him for a long time..." Best's expression radiated pain as he spoke without looking up from his hands. "Then they put a gun to his head and…" He fell silent, and she knew he couldn't say what they both knew he had been meaning to say.

She was getting really nauseous now. What little she had had for breakfast wanted to come back up again. She noticed her hearing growing muffled and she felt her whole body go numb.

"But he is okay right?" She managed to squeeze out fighting the nausea.

Best just shook his head. Then he looked up at her and she could see the slightest hint of a tear in one of his eyes.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **That's the beginning! I hope I have peaked your interest. I know these first two parts are short, but I promise that most of the coming chapters are a lot longer!

Chapter 2 will be posted tomorrow!


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Chapter 2. For those of you on the McSwarek board: You'll probably recognize the first spoiler in this one =)

I hope you like the story thus far, and as always if you have any questions or comments feel free to review or PM me.

Enjoy**  
><strong>

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><p>CHAPTER 2<p>

They parked the van a couple of blocks away from where he was going to die. Apparently Hill had put out a bounty on Sam's head to all his goons which meant that it would be easier to stage his death since their UC guy could bring his own guys to do the deed and just snap some pictures of the body.

He heard a car pull up behind them, and when he looked out the rear windows of the van he saw his truck.

Normally he would have been annoyed that;1: they had taken his truck without asking, and 2: that they had let someone he didn't know drive it, but he was too tired and overwhelmed by the situation to call forth such feelings.

"Okay, so you're going to get in your truck and drive down that street there." Boyd said pointing towards the street where it was all going down.

"They're gonna stop you, then pull you out of the car. One of 'em is gonna record video of the start of it with his phone, so we need it to be believable, get it?"

Sam nodded. He knew how important it was that it looked real. Any doubt would surely have everyone he cared about killed in an attempt to figure out where he was.

"The more real the witnesses are, the better, so you'll have to stay put for a while as we do a mock investigation of the scene. We'll have someone make you look the part then and snap the dead shots with the phone and take some crime scene photos and some notes for the investigation."

A thought suddenly hit Sam. "Wait a minute…" Boyd looked expectantly at him. "We're in 15th, that means they'll be…"

"No. I'll tell them it's our investigation as it's connected with the Hill case."

"You know they'll insist."

"I won't let them." Boyd said matter-of-factly and Sam thought it best to just shut up again.

"Anyway. We'll bring in an ambulance to pick up the DB, you," Boyd continued. "It'll take you to the hospital where we have a guy who'll bring you to the morgue for some more pictures and an 'autopsy'."

Sam found it disturbing sitting there being told about how he was going to die and his own autopsy. He knew he wouldn't really be dead, but the way Boyd spoke about it so easily, as if it was nothing, unnerved him.

"One of my guys will pick you up and bring you to the bus station. Here." Boyd held out an envelope. "This is where you're going. Don't open it until my guy leaves."

Sam nodded to show that he understood.

"I am the only one who knows where you'll be."

* * *

><p>They had really had at him.<p>

After pulling him out of the truck and slamming him in the pavement they had proceeded to kick him, not too hard, but still hard enough for it to hurt a lot, and to get the 'real' shots for the cell phone.

He had groaned and screamed and done his best to make it seem like they were kicking the life out of him, and he was happy when the guy with the phone was satisfied with the footage and put it away. They stopped kicking as hard then.

Sam laid there, oomph-ing and ugh-ing while they pretended to pound and kick his whole body, face included, until he saw it fit to pretend to pass out, and then just laid there limply as they continued pretending to kick and wail on him.

It felt like at least half an hour had passed before he saw one of the guys pull a gun and aim it at his head. He knew it only contained blanks, but couldn't help the feeling that arose in him, screaming at him to get away, as he stared down the barrel.

Sam closed his eyes as he saw the guy's finger twitch. The sound was extremely loud and made his ears ring, and the heat of the discharge made his face feel warm before he felt something connect with his forehead.

It hurt.

His forehead was throbbing, and he knew that something had hit him. Since he was able to think, he figured that he wasn't dead, and therefore that it hadn't been a real bullet. It had to have been a fragment of the blank.

He kept his eyes closed as he listened to the 'goons' scream at each other to get away from the scene. And he listened as they piled into the car and drove off.

He heard sirens, car doors slamming and footsteps, and when he opened his eyes he saw a woman leaning over him.

"I'm here to do your make up." She said as she reached over to a large black bag beside her, and proceeded to put a ton of make-up on Sam's face to make him look like he really had been beaten to a pulp. To top it all off she made a fake gunshot wound on his forehead. As she was doing this, she told him that the fragment that had hit him had just left a little knick and that it wasn't anything to worry about.

He hadn't been worried.

When she finished, he heard more steps, and soon a guy with a camera came into his field of vision. Sam closed his eyes again as that would be the easiest way to keep his expression consistent, and therefore more believable.

Hours later, he was covered by a yellow tarp. It had made the cold a little less unbearable and he was able to open his eyes again.

As he laid there, staring at the tarp for a long time, he realized that he hated the color yellow, and that, if presented with this scenario ever again, he would protest as if his life depended on it.

He felt happy when he felt the backboard being slid underneath the tarp, and the 'paramedics' moved him around to get him on it. Then they lifted him and carried him into the bus, where they pulled the tarp down.

He welcomed the fresh air and the change of color in front of his eyes from yellow to bright white.

"Whoa!"

Sam looked over at the 'paramedic' when he heard the surprise in his voice. "You look dead!"

"It's kind of the point." Sam muttered, annoyed by the kid's stupidity, well, actually he was annoyed by the entire situation. He was annoyed by the fact that Hill was not yet behind bars even though it had been over 6 months since Sam had been part of the investigation.

He was annoyed that he had been woken up. He understood that it was for his own safety, but he had trouble sleeping lately, and being woken up when he had finally gotten to sleep was annoying as hell.

He was annoyed that he didn't know how long it would take until they'd manage to take Hill down, which meant that he didn't know when he would be able to see his family and friends again.

He was also incredibly annoyed by the fact that this situation would put his friends and family through a lot of pain, and that he had no idea how he would explain it to them when he did come back.

* * *

><p>The mock autopsy went by quite quickly.<p>

Sam had been lying naked on a cold metal table while they had taken their photos before he had been allowed to get dressed. Someone removed the make-up from his face so as not to scare the people who would also be on the bus to wherever he was going before he was ushered out the back doors and into a car by one of Boyd's guys.

Sam had been in no mood to talk and had mostly ignored the guy's attempts at conversation as they rode to the bus station.

Once on the bus, he had opened the envelope. It had contained a piece of paper, a key and a cell phone. The paper said to take the bus to the end stop, take another bus to some other place, then another bus and then a taxi to the lake and had a small map of the route to the cabin.

Sam groaned at having to navigate his way through the forest. He really was _not_ an outdoorsy person. He rubbed his eyes and leaned back to try to get some sleep.

He couldn't.


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Chapter 3!

As you might have figured out, I'm doing alternating POVs in this story, because I really wanted to show the effect the situation had on both Sam and Andy. I hope you like the way it's written as well =)

Thank you for all the reviews, alerts and favorites! I really appreciate it!

Enjoy!

* * *

><p>CHAPTER 3<p>

She went into the men's locker room on autopilot.

To _his_ locker.

She stood there staring at the lock for a long time before reaching out to touch it. She tried to pull it open, hoping it wasn't locked.

It was.

She let go of it and just stood there staring through the little holes at Sam's change of clothes that were lying inside.

She needed to touch them.

To smell his scent.

To know that he wasn't gone.

He couldn't be gone.

His clothes were in his locker, and he wouldn't leave his clothes if he was really gone.

She knew she didn't make sense.

He _was_ gone.

She'd never see him again.

Her stomach felt like a pit of nothingness and her chest felt empty. Her whole body felt empty.

She just wanted to see him again, to have him yell at her for doing something stupid, to save her as he had done so many times before, just to talk to him.

But she couldn't.

He was gone. And he would never be back.

"Uhm… McNally? You know this is uh… the men's locker room, right?"

His voice startled her. That is to say; her body reacted as such. Her emotions, however, remained blank.

Once her body had come down from startle-mode she slowly turned her head to face Shaw.

She had nothing to say, or was unable to speak, she wasn't sure. She just looked at him.

Concern overtook his previously amused features. "What's going on?"

He didn't know yet.

Shaw was one of Sam's closest friends at 15, yet she had been told the horrible news before him. _–Why?_ She wondered as she just stood there, emotionless.

He walked over to her and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. She turned back towards the locker.

Sam's locker.

The one in front of which, on their first day of meeting, he had stripped down into his underwear in front of her without the slightest sign of hesitation all the while yelling at her for being a rookie and bad at her job.

She could hear Shaw's voice, but her mind wouldn't register what he said. It was just a jumble of words that made no sense to her ears.

His hand left her shoulder, and she felt anxious, like his hand had somehow made it all a little bit better, a little less real.

She noticed him reaching out for the lock and turned the wheel. It clicked open. He removed it and opened the locker.

A white long-sleeve and a greyed t-shirt were lying, neatly folded, on the small shelf. Below hung Sam's uniform.

Her eyes rested on his officer number; 6114. Then they drifted to his nametag.

_SWAREK_

She wanted to run her fingers over it, but felt uncomfortable doing so because Shaw was standing right next to her and he didn't know.

"…and all that business. Now want to tell me what's wrong?"

She could suddenly understand the words coming out of Shaw's mouth again. She swallowed loudly a couple of times in an attempt to prepare her voice for speaking as it had been unable to do since she had been in Best's office.

"You should go talk to Sarge." Was all she managed to utter, and her voice sounded raspy and hoarse like she had, indeed, been crying.

"What? Why?" Shaw obviously hadn't expected those words to come out of her mouth.

"He'll tell you." She said hoarsely.

She didn't even care that he was standing there anymore, didn't care what he'd see.

She reached out, and slowly ran her fingers over the embroidered letters spelling Sam's last name.

She just stood there, feeling the bumps of thread that made out his name.

He couldn't be gone.

He was right there.

Underneath her fingers.

As silence filled the locker room, she knew that Shaw had left. She was alone.

She reached up to the shelf and pulled down the long sleeve and the t-shirt. Pulling the latter over her head, on the outside her uniform, she proceeded to press the long sleeve to her face taking a deep breath through her nose, letting his scent fill her.

She closed her eyes letting his scent take over her senses.

She heard him.

He was chuckling at how stupid she looked sniffing his sweater. She heard him talking, but it was muffled so she couldn't make out exactly what it was he was saying. She opened her eyes to look at him, to see his lips moving to help her hear his words, but he wasn't there.

She looked around the locker room, for a moment sure that he had been there, but it was silent, the only sound being that of her own steady breathing.

Taking one last look around, just to make certain, she still came up with nothing. She knew she should get to parade but she'd rather just stand there, smell Sam's clothes, and imagine him smiling at her.

Reluctantly, she folded the long sleeve and put it back on the shelf before pulling his t-shirt back off from outside her uniform.

She had folded it and was about to put it back when she changed her mind and instead unbuttoned her uniform shirt. She slid it off, and pulled her own black t-shirt over her head, dropping it on the bench before reaching for Sam's overly washed one and putting it on.

It was big, but she managed to stuff it, though bulkily, in her pants before putting her uniform back on. She then folded her own t-shirt and put it on top of Sam's long sleeve before putting them back on the shelf.

As she was about to close the locker, her eyes came to rest on his name again. She ran her fingers slowly over it, closing her eyes and trying to feel what was written.

When she opened them again, she gripped the small piece of fabric and ripped it off. She studied it in her palm before slowly closing her hand around it and stuffing it in the left chest pocket of her uniform before closing the locker and hatching the lock.

She had yet to button her uniform fully, and she tugged the t-shirt up to her nose for one last whiff of him, before re-buttoning it and clipping on her tie as she walked out of the locker room.

* * *

><p>When she walked into the parade room it was easy to see who knew and who didn't.<p>

Shaw was standing over in the far corner with a mixture of shock and horror on his face and Jerry was standing right beside him wearing the same expression with a comforting hand on Shaw's shoulder.

Noelle was eyeing them suspiciously which made Andy think that she hadn't gotten the news yet. She wondered why. Noelle and Best seemed so close that Andy would have thought he would have told her before parade._ –Maybe he ran out of time_, she thought, as she turned her head to look to the front of the room.

She saw the other rookies, her friends, smiling and joking around at the desks in the front with their backs to her, and realized it wasn't natural for them to be told in separate. They didn't really know Sam that well.

She didn't feel like putting on the brave face, and went over to stand with Shaw and Jerry instead of heading over to her friends. She knew some of the other coppers would know something was up by her doing this. It's not like she was that close to either Shaw or Jerry, but she needed to be with someone who knew, someone who felt like she did, someone who was also empty inside.

Shaw looked at her with sadness in his eyes when she came over. And he nodded in thanks. She knew it was for having told him to go talk to Best and with a quick raise of her eyebrows she uttered a silent 'don't mention it'.

Jerry just nodded at her and tried for a comforting smile, at least she thought that was what he intended it to be, but it just ended up a weird mixture between a smile and a frown before he let his expression turn back into one of sadness and slight horror.

She could feel Noelle looking at her intently, probably trying to figure out what had happened to make her friends so shook up, and why that something also involved Andy.

Best entered the room, and the other coppers turned silent awaiting him to start his daily briefing. He looked even more tired now, Andy noticed, as he slowly walked to the front of the room.

Knowing how horrible _she_ felt, Andy couldn't imagine how the sergeant felt, having to have not only experienced the death of his friend, but also having to notify everyone else of this friend's death, pretty much having to relive the incident over and over.

Andy was sure she would crumble if she was even going to attempt to talk about it and she experienced a swell of admiration towards Best for being able to hold up as well as he was.

Some of the officers in the room shot questioning looks at each other, instinctively knowing something was up, as he stopped in front of the white board and took a few breaths before turning around to face the room.

"Yesterday, we lost one of our own." He said. He was delivering it a lot better now than he had with Andy. Then again, he had been through it at least two more times since that.

She heard people's voices start buzzing at his words, and most of them started looking around to see who was missing. Their eyes landed on the three of them standing in the corner, and Andy felt her heart sink, if that was even possible, deeper into her stomach.

Soon all of the eyes in the room were on her, and the pressure was immense. She wanted to throw up.

Why were they looking at _her_? She wasn't the one who was gone. Why couldn't they just look away? Her chest was constricting making it difficult to breathe, the nausea just kept growing worse and she was starting to feel dizzy and faint from lack of air.

She felt two strong, supportive hands resting on her shoulders and somehow they enabled her to breathe again.

Best cleared his throat making most heads turn back towards him. The four rookies' faces, however, were nailed to her. She couldn't look at them and shifted her eyes to the ground.

"Sam Swarek," Best started. "was an incredibly talented police officer. We all know how much he loved his work, particularly risking his life undercover. I am very sad to say that, because of this, he is no longer among us."

Andy looked up at Best as he spoke about Sam. She noticed that her friends' heads had turned their attention back to him now, except for Traci. She was still looking at Andy with a mass of sorrow and empathy radiating from her eyes.

"Yesterday evening, Swarek was stopped by a couple of Anton Hill's goons. And they are the ones who took him away from us."

"Let's get out there and get them!" An officer Andy didn't really know that well shouted and several of the others chimed in.

Best waited for them to calm down before continuing; "As the investigation is directly connected to an ongoing case in the Guns and Gangs unit, I have been informed that they will lead the investigation."

She could feel both Shaw's and Jerry's grips tighten on her shoulders at Best's words.

All of the officers in the room started whispering making Andy's ears buzz.

"What the hell?" Another officer Andy didn't really know shouted. "He's _our_ guy!"

Most of the other officers were now piping in, their yells growing louder and blending together as they all tried to get their two cents in at the same time.

Andy just wished the whole thing was over. She just wanted to go home and crawl under the covers in her bed with Sam's shirt. But there was still another ten hours until she would be home. And Luke would be there.

–_Why does Luke have to be there?_ She caught herself thinking.


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N: **This chapter is a continuation of the previous chapter, but after this, the rest will be alternating POVs until the last couple.

I can hardly believe the responses I've been getting to this story, and it makes me incredibly happy that you are enjoying it! Thank you to all of you who review and let me know!

I hope you like this chapter as well =)

Enjoy!**  
><strong>

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Rookie Blue, this is purely written for my own, and hopefully other's enjoyment.

* * *

><p>CHAPTER 4<p>

When parade had finally ended and most of the other officers had left, she couldn't take it anymore. She couldn't stay strong. She couldn't keep up appearances. Her legs buckled and she felt herself crumbling together as her body headed for the floor.

Two sets of strong arms quickly grabbed hold of either of her arms, and she was pulled onto a chair. Shaw placed both hands firmly on her shoulders to keep her from falling to either side as she sat on the chair staring blankly ahead.

"Andy?"

She could feel Traci's hands on her knees. They were warm.

"Andy, are you okay?" She asked with concern.

Andy just sat there limply. Her mind wouldn't work. No matter how much she wanted to, she couldn't say anything. Her mind wouldn't give the orders and her body wouldn't listen.

Traci got up and bent at the waist to wrap her arms around her and hold her close. "You're going to be okay." She whispered. "It _will_ be okay."

Andy could hear her addressing someone behind her, but couldn't register what was being said or who it was being said to.

"Come on." She suddenly heard Traci's low whisper in her ear again. "Let's get you home."

She felt two sets of strong arms pulling her to her feet again and they all but dragged her through the barn and out into a car she just barely recognized as Traci's. She was put in the passenger seat and buckled in before the strong, steadying arms let go of her.

Soon the car was moving. She heard the motor humming as they drove along, but her mind was not alert enough to keep track of where they were going. The only thing her mind would do was show her images of Sam; him smiling, chewing gum, chuckling at her and wearing that expression, that mixture of anger and concern that he so often wore while looking at her.

She didn't know how long they had been driving, but she did notice the steady hum of the motor stopping.

"Andy?" It was Traci again. Her best friend. "You're home."

So that was where they had been headed.

Andy's mind was alert for long enough to take in the driveway to her and Luke's house in one of Toronto's better neighborhoods.

"Are you okay to walk?" Traci asked. Andy heard two clicks, as Traci unbuckled both of their seat belts, and heard her friend's door slam shut as she exited the car.

Summer was making way for fall, and Andy felt a shiver run through her when Traci opened the passenger door.

"Come on." Traci said, grabbing Andy's arm and pulling it over her shoulder as she helped her stand up. Andy was glad to have regained at least some motor function again as she walked, albeit with great difficulty and a lot of support from Traci, up the driveway and to the front door.

Luke was standing in the doorway waiting for them.

He pulled her into a hug when she was within reach of his arms.

She knew he meant for it to comfort her, but she almost felt worse. Having his arms around her made it all the more clear to her that this was not where she belonged.

He proceeded to scoop her up into his arms as he invited Traci inside, before he carried her up the stairs and into their bedroom.

He gently put her down on the bed so that she was sitting on the edge before he knelt down and started untying her boots, an action that made her realize she was still wearing her uniform.

She reached up to her neck and felt her tie still in place. She pulled it off, and clumsily unbuttoned the top buttons of her uniform shirt before she grabbed a hold of the neckline of Sam's well-worn t-shirt and pulled it up to cover her mouth and nose before inhaling deeply.

She didn't notice the pained look on Luke's face as he realized what she was doing, and whose shirt she was wearing. If she _had_ noticed, she wouldn't have cared.

Luke continued to pull her boots off and unbuttoned the rest of her uniform shirt, helping her pull it off. All the while she was sitting there, wearing Sam's t-shirt as a bandit's mask, inhaling and exhaling deeply.

She didn't notice the small, rectangular piece of fabric falling out of her uniform pocket to the floor. She didn't notice Luke picking it up and looking at it. She didn't notice the pain on his face as he read the name. She didn't notice his sigh nor that he put the nametag in his own pocket. She didn't notice him kissing her forehead before he pulled the covers aside and helped her move up the bed to rest her head on the pillows.

He pulled off her uniform pants before pulling the covers over her and once more kissing her forehead before leaving her alone in the room to rest.

She had realized how exhausted she was the moment her head had hit the pillow, and she could have sworn that the last kiss on her forehead had been from Sam as she drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

><p>When she awoke she still felt as tired as she had been when she had drifted off. Her eyes took some time to focus before she saw Luke sitting, fast asleep, in an awkward position in a wicker chair in the corner.<p>

She felt guilty.

She wished that she felt about Luke the way she felt when she buried her face in Sam's t-shirt. Things would have been a lot easier then.

She cursed herself for not admitting these feelings to herself before, for not admitting them to Sam, as she couldn't stop the images running through her mind of their happy lives together. Of white picket fences, 2 point 8 kids and a golden retriever running around in the back yard.

Sam smiling at her, his dimples making deep grooves in his cheeks. The feel of his lips on hers, as she remembered them from that night of the black out just over a year before, of his touch as his hands roamed all over her body and of his nose rubbing against hers.

She brought her hand up to her pillow to rest her head on it, and realized that she had been crying in her sleep. Her pillow was soaked. _–Finally_. She thought, happy to have been able to finally have a, in her mind, normal response to the news of…

She couldn't even say it in her head.

She breathed in deeply and let the air out with a loud yawn. The sound made Luke stir in his chair and he blinked sleepily as he brought his right hand up to rub his eyes. When he noticed that she was awake, his face took on a look of great concern.

"How are you feeling?" He asked walking over and taking her hand in his.

She felt like pulling it out of his grip and instead clench Sam's shirt, but she felt too guilty to do so, and just let him kneel on the floor, holding her limp hand in his strong ones.

"Tired." She whispered hoarsely.

"Yeah." He sighed in acknowledgement. "Can I get you anything?" He asked before kissing the hand he was holding.

The gesture made her extremely uncomfortable and she just shook her head in response to his question.

"Okay." He whispered. "Let me know if I can get you anything." He said before carefully putting her hand back on the bed and walking out of the room.

Why did he have to be such a good guy? Why didn't she feel the way she wanted to feel for him? Why did her mind only go back to Sam? Why wouldn't the images leave her alone? She knew how she felt for him now. Enough already!

Still his face popped into her head. Smiling, scowling, chuckling, yelling.

"He's gone." She whispered to herself. "He is _gone._"

She could feel the warm tears running down her face now, soaking the pillow further. She hadn't been able to feel them before.

The tears blurred her vision as she laid there, images of Sam still flashing through her mind as clear as day, while the room was a blurred mass of dark shapes. She closed her eyes, and the images of Sam just kept multiplying, blending into each other, making her head spin.

She felt sick again, but her stomach was already empty. She squeezed her eyes shut so hard that she saw stars and kept them like that until she once again drifted off into dreamless sleep.


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Sam POV, first week at the cabin. It's kind of short, but the longer chapters are coming, I promise!

Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Rookie Blue, this is purely written for my own, and hopefully other's enjoyment.

* * *

><p>CHAPTER 5<p>

One week had passed since he had gotten to the small cabin, and he was already bored out of his mind. That was, when he wasn't worrying about how his family and friends were doing. How Sarah and his nephews were holding up, how Ollie, Jerry and Noelle had taken the news, the other copper's reactions, the rookies' and the wellbeing of the person who was most often on his mind; McNally's.

He knew Sarah would probably be okay. She had been through stuff like this before, and he knew she had the coping skills. They had lost both their parents prematurely after all, and even though you could never get used to a loved one dying, you did develop coping mechanisms making it all just a little bit easier. Plus she'd learnt a lot in therapy after those guys…

No.

He was confident that Sarah would be just fine. McNally however…

She was emotional, too emotional. She related to everyone. It annoyed the crap out of him, yet that quality was also something he admired in her. He himself had issues even getting close to his sister, and therefore he couldn't understand how she could be able to feel such a connection with everyone she met when he only really felt it with one: _Her_.

He figured his lack of connectivity stemmed from his childhood. From that his father had died when he was only two and how his mother had withdrawn afterwards.

Sam couldn't even remember his father. He knew that Sarah had had some recollection of him. He remembered that she used to tell him stories when they were younger, before she also became disconnected…

Sam pushed the thoughts away. There was a reason he didn't like stupid fishing cabins, a dislike that had multiplied after the McNally incident.

He got up and walked inside to get something to drink. After rummaging through the cupboards for a bit he found what he was looking for; whiskey. He didn't bother finding a glass and just uncorked the bottle to gulp down the warm liquid instead.

It made his body heat up and it left a slight tingling sensation in his throat.

He put the bottle down on the counter and sighed. He knew it wasn't a solution. He knew it was an imaginary 'easy way out' which didn't really lead anywhere.

But it felt _so_ good.

He grabbed the bottle and drank greedily, and when he removed it from his lips he was panting slightly. He put it down on the counter again and walked back out on the patio where he sat down on the steps leading down to the water.

He wondered what McNally was doing; how she was doing at work, if she was sad that he was gone, if she was safe.

He closed his eyes and imagined hearing her voice.

He hadn't talked to or seen anybody in a week.

Yes, he liked being alone, and yes, he liked silence. But the silence at this cabin wasn't the kind of silence he liked. It was pressing to the point of making his ears hurt. It fuelled thoughts that were not welcome and opened the compartments he had fought so hard to make and keep closed.

This was not the good kind of silence.

He propped his elbows on his knees and rested his head in his hands staring out at the lake. He wondered what was so much fun about fishing that they had actually decided to make specified cabins for it? And why had they made them so far apart? He couldn't see or hear any sign of people anywhere nearby.

Two days earlier he had decided to canvas the area. He'd walked for hours to end up with a whole bunch of bug bites, a mass of scratches from branches, and he had stepped in animal dung. That had been the last straw and he had decided to never go into the woods again. He wasn't going to set foot outside the cabin until Boyd personally came and picked him up when the case was solved and over.

Because of this; he now also felt trapped.

He hoped it would be over soon. That, in a couple of days, Boyd would show up, pound on the door and tell him that Hill was out of the way and that he could get back to his life. That McNally had told Luke to beat it. That she had proclaimed her love for him, Sam Swarek, in front of everyone they knew, saying that she'd never love anyone the way she loved him ever again.

This was wishful thinking. He knew it. Not only was he certain that the case would drag on and on for weeks, maybe even months. He was also certain that McNally was quite happy where she was with the blonde, blue-eyed detective.

Sam had barely tolerated Callaghan when he had first come to 15. When Andy arrived, he had begun to despise him. The way he spoke, the way he acted around her, the way _she_ acted around him. Every time she smiled at him or laughed with him, it made Sam feel like someone had punched him in the gut.

Maybe he _was_ better off at the cabin...


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Here you go! A longer chapter! It was one of the more difficult chapters to write for me, and I really hope you enjoy it.

Thanks for all the reviews, alerts, PMs and simply for just reading my writing! It really does mean a lot to me, and I absolutely love hearing other people's views on what I've written!

Hope you like this chapter as well!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Rookie Blue, this is purely written for my own, and hopefully other's enjoyment.

* * *

><p>CHAPTER 6<p>

It had been a week since she had gotten the news.

She hadn't been in the barn since.

She had worn his t-shirt night and day, just sitting in the same spot on the couch in the living room, staring out the window, thinking about everything she should have told him, everything she should have done. Everything they _could_ have done together.

She could move just fine now, and figured it was due to her coming over the initial shock of losing him so soon, before she had had a chance to fully realize what he meant to her.

The pain she now felt, knowing that she would never see him again, was unbearable. Her heart was in a constant knot and it felt like it wasn't beating properly, not pumping enough blood around to sustain her.

She now knew he had been patient. Biding his time until she would figure out that he was the one she wanted. And the guilt she felt at not having realized how he had acted towards her, how he had been attentive, listened to her, known what she needed even before she did, was unbearable.

It ate at her like mould, slowly spreading from the pit of her stomach to her heart and the rest of her body. That gnawing feeling that she should have wised up earlier, that she should have realized and told him, long ago, how she felt about him.

Luke was still there. He tried to help her, but no matter how much effort she saw him put into it, it still wasn't enough.

No.

It wasn't _right_. No matter what he did and said it wasn't what she needed. She needed _Sam_. She needed _Sam_ to tell her he was there, to tell her that if she wanted to talk she could call him.

She grabbed her phone and dialed the all too familiar phone number. It went straight to his voice mail.

The first couple of dozen or so times it had been ringing forever until it finally switched over. She had now called the number so many times that the phone had probably run out of batteries.

She just needed to hear his voice.

"_Uh… This is Sam Swarek… Uhm… Leave a message."_

She couldn't get enough of it, and dialed once more.

"_Uh… This is Sam Swarek… Uhm… Leave a message."_

She kept hoping that it would change, but it was beginning to dawn on her that this was just wishful thinking.

* * *

><p>Traci had gotten a habit of calling her at least three times a day, asking how she was holding up, if she would like to come outside, if she'd want to come see her friends at the barn. Andy's answers were always; fine, no and no.<p>

She couldn't face going back.

To walk inside and not see him, and to relive the horror of getting to know, scared her out of her mind. She couldn't bear going through it all again. So she stayed inside, only moving from the bedroom, in a straight line, down the stairs, through the living room, and into the kitchen to make some food, then back into the living room, to flop down on the couch, and stare out the windows as she ate what little she managed to get down before her stomach started turning.

She had swallowed her second bite of her sandwich when her phone rang. Andy just knew it was Traci calling for her first check-up of the day.

She picked up, ready to give the standard string of answers.

"Hello?"

"Andy. How are you?" Traci asked as expected.

"Fine." Andy replied dully. She pulled at the neckline of Sam's t-shirt up to her nose to smell it, but was disappointed as his scent was now mixed with her own and not as distinct as it had been that day a week ago.

"Do you want to come out today?" She asked, as she always did every phone call these days.

"No." Andy said, playing with the neckline of the shirt.

"It's Sam's funeral today." Traci said after a short pause.

Logically, Andy had known that this day was nearing, but emotionally she was in no way ready for it.

"You _do_ want to attend?" Traci asked when she didn't say anything.

"Yes." She replied. She _did_ want to go. But she was scared. She was scared to lose it, to break down in front of everyone and to show how cracked her armor had become because of his death. To show them all the effect he had on her. How much she had cared, how much she _did_ care.

"I'll come over, and you and I and Luke will go together okay?" Traci asked, though Andy knew she wasn't really asking. "I'll be over at ten. The service starts at eleven." She informed. "I'll see you soon."

Andy hung up the phone and leaned forward to grab the sandwich from the plate to take another bite. She then realized that she was no longer hungry and put it back down.

She had to get dressed. She needed to look nice for Sam. To be respectful.

* * *

><p>She had put on her dark nylon stockings, and was standing in front of the open wardrobe staring at her dress uniform. She'd reached out to pull it down about a dozen times, but it just didn't feel right.<p>

If she wore the uniform, it would mean that she was there grieving a coworker, which of course she would be, but that wasn't entirely it. Sam had meant more to her than just a coworker. He had been her protector, her mentor, her friend, her…

She looked to the left of her uniform and saw a simple black dress. Yes. That was more appropriate. It was more personal. It would show that he meant more to her than just a coworker.

She spent a long time convincing herself to finally take off Sam's t-shirt, before she put the dress on. She then put her hair up in a bun, and carefully put on a thin layer of make up to cover up the markings her face was bearing due to grief and lack of proper sleep.

When she had finished, she had gone back downstairs and taken a seat to wait in the indentation that had formed in the couch from her sitting there for hours on end for days.

Luke arrived home some ten minutes before Traci arrived. He had kissed her temple and asked her how she was doing as he had entered the living room. She had told him her regular "fine." And he had gone upstairs to change into his dress uniform before coming down to join her on the couch.

He had tried to talk to her, but she hadn't been much of a conversational partner, so after a couple of minutes he gave up, and not long after that, the doorbell chimed announcing Traci's arrival.

They had all walked to Traci's car together. Andy had gotten into the back voluntarily and she had noticed Luke and Traci sending each other questioning looks at her actions before they had both shrugged and gotten into the front seat.

She just didn't want to sit next to anyone. Was that so hard for them to understand?

The ride was silent and uncomfortable and Andy was happy when they at long last pulled into a parking lot near a small church.

The three of them got out of the car and Andy followed behind Luke and Traci as they made their way up the stone path to the church entrance. It was a small and delicate stone church which Andy thought was suitable for Sam's funeral. He wasn't a big show off in life, so why would he be at his death?

Andy could remember Traci saying there wouldn't be a viewing due to the harsh circumstances of his passing at some point during the ride to the small church on the outskirts of Toronto. Andy wasn't even sure if she would have wanted to see him if she had had the option.

She wanted to remember his face the way it had been when he had still been there. The way his eyes twinkled when he looked at her and the way his lips couldn't help but curl into a smile when she did or said something silly.

The thought of his smile made a small one appear on her own lips until she caught herself, and realized it wasn't the proper expression for a funeral. Her heart felt heavy and sank deep into her stomach as her smile faded and she reminded herself that he was gone, and that this was the absolute last goodbye.

She couldn't even remember the last thing she had said to him. She frowned trying to remember as she sat down on the second row behind four dark-haired people.

Andy only saw the back of their heads, but she assumed that the long black hair belonged to a woman, who she realized had to be Sam's sister, Sarah. Next to her sat a man with short dark brown hair, who Andy assumed was her husband, and on either side of the couple sat two boys, who Andy pegged to be in between their tweens to early teens, no doubt, Sam's nephews.

She never knew he had nephews.

She frowned as she realized she knew nothing about his family other than what he had told her that time long ago about Sarah on their trip to Sudbury. She wished he would have told her more. That she would have known these people who were so obviously grieving in front of her. That she could join them and that they could all take comfort in each other's grief.

Luke slid down on the pew beside her, and grabbed her hand. She pulled away and let her hands rest in her lap. He copied her position, just sitting there silently.

She knew he was trying to be there for her, that he was trying to help her get through it, but it wasn't working. She was just getting more annoyed the more he tried.

She turned around as sounds of hushed voices came through the church doors to see a uniformed Oliver Shaw enter, hand in hand with his wife Zoe, who Andy had met once, followed by three young girls ranging in an age, Andy guessed, from five to twelve. Shaw ushered them into the second row on the opposite side of the aisle from where Andy and Luke were sitting.

Jerry soon arrived and slid in next to Traci who was sitting behind Andy.

Dov, Chris and Gail were the next to enter the church, and they sat down behind Shaw and his family. Noelle and Best arrived together shortly thereafter, sitting down near the back as more people, some of whom Andy knew, some she'd never seen before, filed inside, quickly filling the small church to the rim.

She felt happy for Sam that so many people had come to pay their final respects. But that happiness was soon pushed aside by that horrible feeling telling her that however much she'd might need to see him, to talk to him, she would never be able to do so again.

* * *

><p>The service had been by the book and the minister had quoted the same psalms that had been used in every funeral Andy had ever attended. When he finished, Shaw walked up to the front of the church to say a few words.<p>

"Sammy was a good friend of mine." He took a deep breath before continuing. "He was a great copper who, though he often colored outside _our_ lines, never colored outside his own. The lines he drew for himself, were firm, and he would never cross them even if his life would depend on him doing so. This was one of the main reasons he managed to be such a good friend and such a good cop."

He took another deep breath, looking around the small church, taking in his audience who was listening intently.

"Sam loved excitement. He loved the thrill of the chase and the more danger the case involved, the more he loved it." He smiled sadly.

"This, and his clear lines, made sure he had a knack for working undercover; delving into the deepest, darkest minds of criminals to bust their organizations from the inside was his greatest love for a long time. This was sadly also what…" He trailed off, inhaling sharply.

"What ended up taking…" He blinked quickly a couple of times.

"Taking him away from us."

Andy felt tears running down her face as she remembered the joy Sam's face had held when he had told her about his many undercover operations. His vivid descriptions of how it was to live, constantly on edge, never knowing if you were going to be made. Having to pretend to be someone else, a person with whom you had nothing in common, and to do so convincingly to keep from getting killed. She hadn't realized until now how lovingly he had indeed spoken about it, she had just viewed it as part of her training, and it made her sad that he would never get to experience that feeling again.

"Let's remember Sam Swarek as the great friend and copper he was! Not to mention Sam, the excellent poker player taking all of our money, and what other possessions we dared to bet, too many a time!" He shot Jerry a look accompanied by a small smile at his last statement before retaking his seat next to his wife.

Andy had remembered the day Jerry had come to work completely shaven because he had bet his facial hair at poker. She remembered Sam's horrible hangover and working with Luke for the first time.

Yet, when she had screwed up and everything had fallen apart; Sam was the one she had turned to, and he had helped her willingly in spite of how horrible he must have felt.

She should have noticed already back then that there was something between them, she probably did, but instead of acting on it she had pushed it away.

She remembered how he had jumped at helping Benny's mom with the plumbing that very evening.

How had she ever thought he was the bad guy who was no good for her?

She noticed movement on the first row and saw the woman she assumed was Sarah get up and walk to the front. She looked a lot like Sam, though her features were more feminine. Her jaw was narrower and her brow and nose were just slightly different from his.

She looked devastated, yet strong and held together at the same time, and Andy admired her courage for being able to walk up there at all, and let alone speak.

"Hello, everyone. Thank you for coming." She started as she looked around the room, taking in her onlookers.

"My name is Sarah. I am…" She frowned. "I w_as_ Samuel's sister." She breathed deeply.

"Growing up with Sammy wasn't always easy, at least not in our home. He was a good boy and a great brother, always trying to protect the people in his life, regardless of his own safety. This got him into a lot of unfortunate situations, and combining that with our living conditions made the grounds for a highly stressful upbringing." She paused and looked down at the first row at her husband and children before she looked around the room once more and continued;

"I guess that our upbringing is what made him learn to put everything on the line to get what he wanted, and to protect as many people as possible from getting hurt. I believe it was this that drove him to become a police officer: His incessant need to save and protect everyone he felt deserved it, no matter the risk to himself."

She smiled sadly. "To me though, he always was and always will be the little boy who learnt 101 jokes by heart in an attempt to make his sister smile during a time where she had nothing to smile about…"

"Though he was unsuccessful at this particular task, he never gave up, and it's because of him that I am here today with my husband and our two boys…" She trailed off with a sigh and looked down at her hands which she held folded in front of her.

"Without Sammy… I would have been a lost cause long ago, and I owe him my life." Silent tears were slowly running down her face now.

"Samuel Swarek was a great brother and uncle. And as you heard from officer Shaw;" She smiled a sad smile in Shaw's direction, flashing those familiar dimples Andy had gotten so used to seeing on a daily basis.

"A great friend and police officer. I hope you will remember him for the rest of your lives and that you will, as me, always hold a special place for him in your hearts. Because I really and truly believe that he deserves it. Thank you." She said before stepping down and walking over to her husband who was waiting to hug her tightly.

Her speech had left Andy with a lot of questions. What was this difficult and stressful upbringing Sarah had been talking about? Sam had never mentioned anything of the sort. The only thing she knew about was the joke book and what had happened to Sarah. Andy also realized that she had no idea how she had worked through her issues.

Why did Sam have to be so private? Why couldn't they just have talked like normal people instead of going through all those conversations finding innuendos to say what they really meant to each other?

No. She shouldn't be angry with him. It was his funeral. She should just sit there, shed a few tears, and remember him. That's what funerals were for, weren't they?

She felt someone's eyes on her, and looked up. Her light brown eyes connected with Sarah's deeper brown ones. They looked so much like Sam's.

Andy swallowed hard as their eyes remained connected offering silent condolences. It felt like she knew. Like Sarah knew how she had felt, _did_ feel, about him. It felt like Sarah knew who she was. How could she? They had never met before. But Andy knew who she was without them having met. Had Sam talked to Sarah about her?

Their eye contact broke as people began moving. Shaw, Jerry, Best, Dov, Chris and Sarah's husband went to the front of the room where the white casket containing Sam's body was sitting, waiting for them to carry him outside to the burial ground where he was to be lowered into the ground.

Andy couldn't understand how she hadn't seen it standing there. How could she not have noticed something so bright and large in the middle of her field of vision?

She was reminded of how inattentive she had been when it had come to Sam. And she felt guilt boiling inside. She should have asked more questions. She should have been straight with him. She should have…

She felt a warm hand on hers, and hoped for a second that it was Sam's before she looked down to see Luke's. She felt horribly disappointed as he squeezed her hand and stood as the men walked by carrying the casket, Sam's casket, Sam's body, on their shoulders.

Sarah and her two boys followed directly behind and, once they had passed, Luke pulled Andy along to follow them outside.

* * *

><p>They had entered autumn, but today was unusually warm and sunny.<p>

As they followed the casket around to the side of the church Andy tried to take in what would be Sam's final resting place. The grounds weren't large, and the head stones were spread about in no particular pattern and they all had different shapes and sizes. Like Sam, it was special.

The grass was magnificently green in the sunlight and the trees were swaying slowly in a warm breeze. It made her feel calm. For some reason she felt like things were good for him and that he was okay wherever he was.

That feeling disappeared when she saw his casket being lowered into the hole in the ground. And she felt like a piece of her disappeared with every shovel of dirt that was thrown on top of it.

She started to feel sick again, and she caught herself wanting to crawl down in the hole, open the casket and curl up beside him. That thought made her even more nauseous. And she had to turn away, putting her hands on her knees, as she hunched over trying to will the nausea away.

She felt a comforting hand on her back and looked up to see Luke with a worried expression on his face. "Do you want to go?" He whispered.

She swallowed several times, before giving up on trying to speak and just nodded silently.

He helped her straighten up before walking over to whisper in Traci's ear and receiving her car keys.

He offered his arm, and she linked hers with his, leaning on him for support as her legs were starting to turn to jell-o.

It didn't feel right, but it was necessary so she fought the urge to step away as he led her back down the stone path towards the car, back to a house she could no longer consider home.


	8. Chapter 7

**A/N:** This is where I started delving into an attempt at explaining why Sam is the way he is. And, boy, did that prove to be difficult!

I hope you enjoy this chapter, as you have enjoyed the others =) As always, feel free to let me know what you like or don't like, be it in a review or a PM!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Rookie Blue, this is purely written for my own, and hopefully other's enjoyment.

* * *

><p>CHAPTER 7<p>

It had been two weeks, and the silence was really starting to get to him. There was nothing to do, and he was alone with nothing but his thoughts for hours on end.

Earlier that day, Boyd had called to update him on how the case was coming along. It wasn't good news.

Hill had believed the footage of Sam getting beaten and the photos of him 'dead', but they hadn't really gotten any closer to putting him away. Sure, they had the files, and they had their connection to Hill, but they had also found something else; an overseas connection, making the case a whole lot bigger than they could have ever imagined. This meant a whole lot more work, which in turn meant that they couldn't bust Hill yet, as they needed him as a pawn in their investigation.

Had Sam not been cooped up in a cabin, but actually involved in the case, the news would have thrilled him tremendously. He would have been excited that he was part of such a huge bust. He'd be in the middle of the action when it all went down, rejoicing in the feeling of the adrenaline coursing through his body, feeling alive and loving every minute of it.

But he _was_ stuck in that cabin and he _wasn't_ involved with the case. And so; the news didn't thrill him at all. In all honesty to himself; the news terrified him.

It had been nice talking to Boyd though. Not just because his was the first voice Sam had heard in two weeks, but he had also told him about the funeral. How it had been sunny. How touching the speeches had been, how Oliver's had had that slight hint of humor and how Sarah had thanked him for saving her.

Sam felt horrible that he had to put them through this, and he wondered what would happen when he did come back, if he ever _would_ come back, that was…

He had wanted to ask about Andy, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He wasn't close to Boyd. He wasn't close to anyone really. There was no way he'd let him know how much he cared about her, how much he missed her. There was no way no one would know.

He could have sworn that sometimes he didn't even know how much he cared himself.

"That old rookie of yours…" Boyd had said suddenly, and Sam's breath had caught in his throat as he had waited for Boyd to continue. "Talk about an emotional wreck."

Sam felt anger growing in the pit of his stomach from Boyd talking about her like that.

"She looked like she was going to throw up. Callaghan even had to drive her home early."

Sam felt even more horrible than he had done thinking about Oliver and Sarah getting up to speak about him being gone.

He had been sure she would be upset, they were partners after all, and everyone knew that when you rode together as much as the two of them did, you got close. You knew each other on a whole different level: you knew each other's habits, you knew each other's reactions to most situations, each other's moves, and you developed complete trust in each other. It was only natural that she was upset. It didn't mean that she cared about him more than she cared about all of her other friends. No matter how much he wished that she would.

Sam had wanted to ask Boyd how she was doing now. The funeral had taken place a week prior, and he wondered how she was getting along, how she was doing at work, but yet again his mind shut him down and held the questions back.

"Get this case done soon. And keep me posted? I'm going nuts out here." Sam had said when Boyd had finished telling him the names of nearly everyone who had attended the service.

"We'll try to wrap it up quickly." Boyd promised. "But this case is a lot bigger now. So it _will_ take some time." He said stressing the 'will' which Sam knew meant that he could look forward to being cooped up for a long time.

"Oh, and I need some more supplies." Sam said in a hurry so that Boyd would hear him before hanging up.

"More booze. Got it."

* * *

><p>Sam hadn't been able to get McNally out of his head when the conversation had ended. He wished he could see her, if only just once, to know she was okay. To make sure that the dark cloud that seemed to follow her around hadn't put her in too much danger.<p>

He was lying in bed. He wasn't tired, and it was still light outside, but he had nothing to do. He figured sleeping would at least keep the thoughts out of his head.

Too bad he couldn't fall asleep.

Every time he closed his eyes he saw her face. He heard her voice. He smelled her scent. And it felt like she was there.

He closed his eyes and imagined someone knocking on the door.

He imagined getting out of bed and padding over to it.

He imagined opening it to see her standing there, tear streaks on her cheeks, looking at him with hollow, sad, brown eyes.

He imagined asking her if she wanted to talk.

He imagined her whispering 'no' while shaking her head before closing the distance between them, putting her hands on his stomach and pushing him up against the wall, before violently capturing his lips in a raw, wanting kiss filled with desire and desperate need.

He opened his eyes and stared up at the wooden ceiling. Sighing, he brought his hands up to rub his eyes in an attempt to wipe the images away.

* * *

><p>He was lying on his stomach. His jaw was stiff, and the pillowcase was moist from having slept with his mouth slightly open in an odd angle. He brought his hand up to move his jaw back into place as he rolled over on his back only to end up staring at the ceiling.<p>

He had no idea how long he had slept, and he wasn't too clear on when he had walked out to lay on the couch either, nor why he had done this.

He remembered that he had been tossing and turning in bed for hours before he had finally grown tired of this and had gotten up and walked out of the bedroom to curl up on the couch, where he had promptly fallen asleep.

He wondered why it was easier to fall asleep on the couch than the bed as he glanced out the window. From the way the light hit the cabin, it seemed to be about midday.

He scratched his stubbled cheek before sitting up and swinging his legs off the couch. The floor felt cold against his bare feet, and he sat on the couch a while letting them get accustomed to the temperature.

He wished he was one of those people who could just sleep and sleep for hours and hours. He wasn't.

6 was usually his number. If he slept longer he just got even more tired, and judging from the heaviness of his head, he had been sleeping for way more than his regular 6 hours.

He stood up and went over to the window telling himself that he probably needed the sleep. He hadn't had more than 4 hours tops any night for at least a month before he had been picked up and 'died'. He had no idea why, but for some reason he just woke up and couldn't fall back asleep.

He tried to pinpoint when it had started as he stared out of the window facing the woods behind the cabin.

He really didn't like trees, at least not when there were so many in one place.

He shuddered as his mind began contemplating the possibility of someone standing in between the trees watching him and him not even noticing.

No.

He wasn't a paranoid freak. There was no one anywhere near this place, Boyd had seen to that.

He sighed as he turned around and walked over to the small kitchen to fix up some food.

As he scrambled some eggs, he once again tried to figure out at what point in time his sleeping hours had been shortened from 6 to 4.

He could remember having had similar issues back when he was a rookie. After they'd found that little boy in the hockey bag. It had taken over a month to get the boy off his mind for long enough to be able to sleep through a full night.

Maybe the amber alert they'd worked a while back had brought up some of the old issues? Sure he'd been hard on that girl's parents, but he had been right. The mother _had_ been hiding something. What kind of parent wouldn't remember what their kid was wearing?

_His_ mom.

No.

He pushed those thoughts away, locking them in the deepest compartments of his mind where they belonged.

He had felt _so_ sorry for that boy's parents. They had been so upset. The mother hadn't been able to stop crying, she'd even soaked Sam's shirt when she had hugged him after he had been told to sit with her while his TO interviewed the husband. How could he not have believed them? They cared so much. She had cried the boy's name over and over into his shoulder as he had sat with her; Joshie, Joshie, Joshie.

He'd known a Josh once.

At one of the day camps one summer long ago. He remembered that they had played pirates. Josh had taught him how pirates say 'argh' and how he had to make a hook with his index finger. He had told him about Peter Pan and Captain Hook. About the magic and the action and he remembered his six year old self being mesmerized as he had listened to the tale. He hadn't wanted to go home that day when camp ended. He had wanted to stay with Josh and hear more fantastic stories.

Then Josh's parents had come. They'd hugged him and kissed his head and cheeks. Sam had watched with wonder as Josh waved at him before his parents had taken either of his hands and they had walked away.

He remembered deciding that he would give his mother a hug that very evening when she got home from work.

She'd been home later than usual. The restaurant had been busy and she had looked tired. Sarah had forced him to put on his pajamas, brush his teeth and go to bed long before she had come, but his sister had not been able to force him to fall asleep, and Sam had managed to stay up until he'd heard the keys in the lock as the door to the apartment slowly slid open and a streak of light from the hall had lit up the living room that held the couch he used as a bed.

He had sat up as she had been taking her shoes off.

"Mommy?" He had whispered. He had seen her shoulders slump at the sound of his voice making her look like a balloon that had just been deflated.

"You need to sleep. You have camp tomorrow." She had said, her long dark hair covering half her face as she turned to go into the kitchen part of the living room and over to the fridge.

He had pushed the covers aside and gotten up to walk over to her, determined to give her that hug, and to receive one back.

He had stopped right behind her as she drained a bottle of water. When she had turned and looked down at him he'd stretched his arms out towards her like he had seen Josh do earlier.

His mother had just stood there, staring at him. Then her eyes had started to sparkle, reflecting what little light was coming in from the street lights outside.

Sam had still been standing there, arms outstretched waiting for her to bend down and put her arms around him like Josh's mother had done in the park, but she didn't.

As tears began to stream down her cheeks she'd gently pushed his arms back down to hang by his sides before reaching into the fridge and handing him a bottle of water.

"Here you go." She had said with a sad attempt at a smile as she had closed the refrigerator door and walked into her bedroom leaving him alone, his bare feet on the cold linoleum, holding an equally cold bottle of water.

A shudder brought him back into reality, and he shifted his weight to shorten his feet's exposure to the cold wooden floors of the cabin. He really needed to put on some socks.

The smell of burnt eggs distracted him, and he looked down too see that they had turned brown, bordering on black.

It didn't matter. He wasn't hungry anymore anyway.

He disposed of the food and went over to sit down on the sofa. He once more thought about putting on socks as he looked down at his feet that were slowly turning white bordering on pale blue.

"Why would anyone ever actually want to stay at a fishing cabin?" He asked the silence of the cabin with a sigh as he laid back on the couch propping his feet up on the arm rest.

It was _so_ quiet, not _one_ sound could be heard anywhere. At least in the city you'd hear the occasional car. Here there was nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

And he was out of whiskey too.

He folded his arms defiantly across his chest as he stared at his feet.

He wished that Andy was there. She'd say something funny. Or stupid, it didn't really matter. She'd just say something, and he'd be okay. His thoughts would stop going places they weren't allowed to go and everything would be back to normal.

He hoped she wasn't getting into too much trouble. Not getting guns pointed at her, not pursuing dangerous suspects on her own, not getting herself into life threatening situations.

He hated that he wasn't there. What if she got into something she couldn't manage to get out of? Who would have her back?

Epstein? No way. He'd probably wet his pants before even attempting to go after her and Diaz would have to consult his damned rule book first. Well, in all fairness Diaz _was_ getting better, but he was by far not nearly good enough by Sam's standards.

Nash? No. She tried not to show it, but Sam could easily see the fear in her eyes when they got into conflicts on the beat. She wasn't made to be a beat cop. Her instincts were good though, and the thought of her as a D really did make sense to him.

Who else was there?

Peck? Yeah. Peck might be able to have her back had it not been for her incessant need to keep up appearances and her reputation. Sam was truly glad he didn't come from a cop family like the Pecks.

To have your parents try to push you into something you clearly don't want to do would have seriously brought down his spirits. He'd been his own boss since he was 9, there wasn't a chance that anyone could tell _him_ what to do unless he thought it to be the right way to go.

Of course, if she was paired with Ollie or Noelle she'd be okay. Sam had known them for so long that he had lost count of their years together.

He couldn't quite understand why, but for some reason his charms, that usually worked so well with any other woman, always came short with Noelle. It was like she saw right through it, not buying the smiles, the dimples, the light conversation. She really was good solid police. Yeah, he'd feel comfortable if Andy was partnered with Noelle.

Now, Ollie…

Maybe Andy would be too much for him. He had those girls of his at home after all.

Sam couldn't place it, but there was something about him that just shouted 'I really care'. In all honesty Sam had felt uncomfortable around Ollie when they had first met in the academy. He had been so friendly and accepting that Sam had initially suspected that he was a fake like everyone else he had ever met.

But he wasn't.

Sam held a lot of admiration for Oliver Shaw. He was the only cop Sam had ever known with a stable family life. The only one he knew who managed to have the same someone to come home to at the end of a hard day at work except for his sister.

Why was that?


	9. Chapter 8

**A/N:** Wow! Over 100 reviews already=O Not to mention the amounts of favorites and alerts! I can't even begin to describe how much it means to me! THANK YOU ALL!

With the help of someone unexpected Andy has a revelation =)

Hope you like it!

Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Rookie Blue, this is purely written for my own, and hopefully other's enjoyment.

* * *

><p>CHAPTER 8<p>

She was starting to despise Luke.

The way he did all the right things though they never seemed to be right or enough to make her better.

She knew she was treating him badly, and she had realized that it wasn't fair to him. She shouldn't be putting him through this anymore.

He was spending more time at work now. The funeral had been a week ago. From what little she had picked up from her talks with Traci, when her mind actually managed to register what Traci was saying, most of the officers were doing as good as conditions would let them and getting back into a normal working routine.

Andy, on the other hand, had yet to return to the barn.

She knew that the longer she stayed away, the harder it would be to come back, but she was afraid. Afraid of the memories that would force their way into her mind the moment she stepped foot back there. But as she sat there on the couch, staring out the window and blaming herself for Sam being gone for the millionth time, she realized that she _should_ try to go outside. Try to get a change of scenery and move a little.

She inhaled, bracing herself, and got up from the couch. She walked to the front door, slipped on a pair of shoes, and opened it.

The chilled air hit her body and made her shiver.

She stood still for a while, letting the cold wash over her, cooling her body and washing the thoughts out of her head.

When her body stopped its sporadic shivers and began shaking continuously instead, she turned around to grab a jacket before stepping outside and locking the door.

She filled her lungs with cold air, and she felt good on her own for the first time in two weeks.

Luke had the car, so she couldn't really go too far, but she figured that a small walk would do her good. She had been sitting still the better part of two weeks and her muscles rejoiced as she actually used them when she started walking.

She wondered why she hadn't gone for a walk before when she felt her whole body relax to the steady rhythm of her feet hitting the ground. The tightness that had been clutching at her chest was starting to dissipate and she felt like she could breathe properly for the first time since she had found out.

She didn't know where she was going, and she didn't care. The only thing on her mind was the steady beat of her shoes connecting with the pavement, as the walk and the cold air cleared her mind of everything that had occupied it for the last week.

She didn't take in her surroundings until her feet suddenly stopped moving, and she came to an involuntary and unexpected halt. She looked around, and though she couldn't quite identify where she was, it looked awfully familiar. There was a van parked in front of the house her eyes were pulled towards, and her eyes grew larger with the realization that it was Sam's.

She had walked to Sam's house.

The feelings of guilt, loss, hurt and longing came crashing down on her like a waterfall. And she struggled to make her legs keep her upright.

The front door was open and lights were on inside. She could feel the hope bubbling inside her that he was back. That he wasn't dead. And her heart stopped when a man walked through the door carrying a pile of boxes that covered everything but his legs and arms.

She wanted to call out for him, to run over and hug him. But there was a feeling growing in her gut telling her to disregard those wants.

That it wasn't Sam.

That it couldn't be.

That he was dead.

Her gut was proven right as the man rounded the van to put the boxes in the back. It was Sarah's husband.

The hope that had made her stomach flutter turned into a lump of disappointment as she watched him walk back inside. Were they packing up Sam's stuff?

Her legs were still not responding to her orders so she didn't want to take the chance of attempting to walk and fall over. Instead she stayed put just watching the open door.

She stood there for a couple of minutes before Sarah came out, carrying some boxes. She walked over and put them in the back of the van before turning around and sitting down to take a breather.

Andy noticed that she was chomping away at a stick of gum. It reminded her a lot of Sam, and Andy couldn't help but stare at her as she stood there, afraid to move in fear of toppling over.

Her staring must have been intense because Sarah started squirming before she turned her head towards where Andy was standing. She was unable to avert her eyes as Sarah's mouth hung slightly open due to having been mid-chew when her eyes had found on Andy.

Her slight frown reminded Andy so much of Sam that the nausea, that had she had come to associate with thoughts of him being gone, came creeping back.

A look of recognition overtook Sarah's features, and Andy watched as she got up and started walking over to her. Andy's stomach kicked into high speed mode as nervousness took over. What would they talk about? What should she say? Why had she ended up there?

"Hey." Sarah said with a small smile. "You were at the funeral, right?"

Andy swallowed. She tried to speak, but no sound came out, so she just closed her mouth and nodded instead.

Another frown, that made her look so much like Sam, crept over Sarah's face.

"I'm Sarah, Sam's sister." She said, letting the frown disappear and offering her hand.

"I know." Andy said, shaking her hand. It earned her yet another frown.

"Oh! I'm Andy." She added hurriedly when she realized how rude her greeting had been. "I'm sorry, I'm just a little…" She trailed off.

"We all are." Sarah said with a comforting smile.

Had she known what Andy was going to say? They didn't know each other. They had never met. How could she know?

"So, are you a police officer? I saw you sitting with a few, but you weren't in uniform, so I was unsure." She said. "Did you work with my brother?"

"Yeah." Andy replied, nodding and swallowing hard to get rid of the lump that was forming in her throat at the thought of talking about Sam.

"What's your last name?" Sarah asked suddenly. Andy frowned at the abruptness of her question. "Maybe he told me about you." Sarah explained still chewing on her gum and studying Andy's face like she was trying to find some links to tie her to, to place her somewhere in her mind.

"Uhm.. It's McNally." Andy said looking half at Sarah, half anywhere else. Her face reminded her so much of Sam's that looking at her just made Andy want to start crying.

Andy heard Sarah's rhythmic chewing stop as she told her the name. She chanced a glance at her face, but when she saw her frowning in thought and recognition, she looked away again.

"McNally?" Sarah asked in surprise. "As in the partner he somehow always managed to mention whenever he spoke about anything? That's you?"

Her words made Andy feel overjoyed and saddened at the same time. "I guess." She said with an insecure half-smile and a shrug.

"Wow! Here I was thinking he had a man-crush." Sarah said with a chuckle.

The thought of Sam sporting a man-crush, and the sound of her chuckle made Andy join in as well. It felt good for a while. Until she remembered that he was gone.

Sarah's smile faded as she looked at Andy with her dark brown, Sam-like eyes.

"So what went on between the two of you?"

Andy was surprised at her directness. It was very unlike Sam who almost always spoke in innuendos. "Nothing." Andy sighed looking down at the ground.

"Doesn't really look like nothing." Sarah said bending over in an awkward angle and tilting her head to be able to look at Andy's face.

"I was just so scared." Andy said, lifting her head and looking off down the street at nothing in particular.

"Of my brother?" Sarah asked incredulously.

Andy just nodded. Why was she feeling embarrassed?

"I'm going to let you in on something;" Sarah said conspiratorially "My brother was the most hopeless romantic I have ever known. When he was a teenager he used to beg me to come watch those romantic comedies just so he could tell his friends that I had forced him to come along. He might have worked hard to keep up his tough guy exterior, but inside he's as mushy and sweet as half-melted ice cream." She said with a small, dimpled smile.

Andy had to smile as she pictured a teenage Sam with a mass of black unruly hair on his knees begging Sarah to go to a movie with him. It seemed so unlike him. Andy had realized that there was a lot she hadn't known about him since she found out he was gone. She just wished she had realized it sooner.

"Would you like to help us?" Sarah asked, tilting her head towards the house in a 'come on' manner.

Andy shrugged in response and followed Sarah as she turned and walked back into the house.

* * *

><p>"Mom! Check this out! It's so cool!" The younger of the two boys Andy had seen at the funeral said excitedly as they walked inside. He walked over to them holding a roll of black tape.<p>

"You're such a doofus you don't even know it Seb. It's tape." A pubescent voice sounded from the living room.

"Simon." Sarah warned.

Andy heard him sigh audibly.

"Look at it mom!" The younger boy called Seb said excitedly, holding the tape roll out to her. Sarah accepted it and flipped it over in her hands. "Looks like tape, but feels heavier." She said, looking knowingly at her son. Who smiled in return, one deep dimple in each cheek. "Let's see it then." Sarah said, handing the tape back to him.

He grabbed it and pulled some metal screws out of his pocket. He then held the tape in one hand and the screws in the other one quite close to it. He then opened the hand containing the screws, but instead of dropping to the floor as Andy had expected them to do, they were now sticking to the tape.

Andy frowned.

"It's magnetic." Sarah whispered as she looked lovingly at her son who was studying the tape in deepest concentration.

Andy smiled awkwardly.

"Sebastian?" Sarah, said bringing her younger son's attention away from the screws dangling from the black roll. "This is Andy." He looked over at her curiously. "She was a friend uncle Sam's."

"Hi." He said with a slight smile before turning back to the tape and the dangling screws.

"Well, that's Sebastian." Sarah told Andy, shaking her head. "And in here…" She said as she started walking. She continued when they were both in the living room. "Simon." She pointed to a teenage boy who was doing a good job stacking books into a box from one of the shelves. He didn't even look up.

"And my husband, Jeffrey." She said pointing over at him. He had been busy trying to move some shelving to get to the wiring of the TV. He stopped mid haul to look over his shoulder at the mention of his name.

His brows went up in surprise at the company, before he smiled and came over, his hand outstretched.

"Please, Jeff." He said shaking her hand.

"Andy." She said shyly. Not really knowing why she had agreed to come inside.

"It's McNally." Sarah told her husband with a knowing look on her face.

"Oh?" He said quirking his eyebrows.

This made Andy even more uncomfortable.

"We're just going to go pack up some of the clothes." Sarah said as she grabbed an empty box off the floor before motioning for Andy to follow her into the bedroom.

Once inside she went over to the wardrobe and opened it. "My God you had a lot of black t-shirts." She muttered as she threw a pile of them onto the bed. "You want to go through 'em and sort out the really washed out ones?" She asked as she looked at Andy over her shoulder as she reached for another pile of neatly folded black and greyed t-shirts.

"Uh, okay." Andy said as she knelt down on the floor next to the bed and pulled the pile of t-shirts over to the edge. She made three piles; black, charcoal and washed out.

"So, Andy." Sarah said, rummaging through the closet and throwing the occasional item in the box. "You're the one who busted him from the undercover right?" Sarah asked after a while.

"Uhm. Yeah…" Andy said hesitantly as she held up another t-shirt in front of her face. She wanted to smell it. The shirt she had at home had such a mixed smell now that she didn't fully remember his scent. She swallowed and clenched her teeth as she tried to keep from burying her face in the fabric.

"How'd that go for you?" Sarah asked as she continued rummaging through piles of clothing. "I bet he never even wore half of these things." She added absent mindedly digging through a pile of pants.

"Well, uh…" Andy said, slightly put off by the randomness and directness of Sarah's question. "It was my first day, he looked sketchy. Oh! And he fit the witness' description of the shooter." Andy said, thinking it best to start at the beginning.

"He did that look well." Sarah mumbled while crouching down to rummage through something on the bottom of the wardrobe.

"Yeah…" Andy said, still looking at shirts and trying not to smell them before sorting them into the piles. "Anyway, he ran off down the fire escape, and I followed him. Suddenly I couldn't find him, and I thought I'd lost him." Andy said seeing everything as they had happened in her head. "Then I heard some voices. He was talking to the other guy he was with. I jumped out, and when I started to cuff the other guy. Sam tried to run, but I tackled him."

Sarah snorted loudly holding back her laughter. It made Andy smile as well, and she relaxed a bit.

"I patted him down and found drugs in his pocket, so I cuffed him and brought him and his buddy to our squad. Mine and Shaw's, he was my TO that day." Andy explained, just in case.

"We went back to the barn, and when we went through the door to the booking room there was a lot of confusion and Jerry gave Sam a hug and…" Andy trailed off frowning.

It hadn't really been her fault. Sam getting burned wasn't on _her_. It was on _Jerry_. How could she not have realized that before?

"Sammy got called out?" Sarah asked when Andy had turned silent.

"Yeah…" She said nodding slightly. She'd stopped going through the clothes now, deep in thought about how she wasn't responsible for him getting burnt.

She wasn't responsible for Hill finding out he was a copper.

She wasn't responsible for Hill sending his guys after him.

She wasn't responsible for his death.

The intense feeling of relief made her dizzy due to her heart had pounding so incredibly fast as she thought it through.

"Then what happened?" Sarah asked as she walked over and sat down on the bed.

"Huh?" Andy said looking up at her.

"What happened after Jerry had hugged him?"

"Right." Andy said and looked away as she tried to get back to her recap of what had happened the day she had first met Sam.

"Well, we were called into the sergeant's office. And Sam just kept yelling and yelling at me for being a rookie and not knowing what I was doing. He made me want to cry. I mean, it was my first day. How was I supposed know he was a cop?" She said as she remembered the feelings that had welled up inside as she had tried to explain to him why she had done what she'd done and tried to apologize.

"I kinda felt like I needed to redeem myself, I wanted to find the real shooter. And I thought maybe Sam knew something about it, so I went into the locker room to ask him."

Sarah chuckled slightly as she pulled a pile of clothing towards her to sift through it. "I bet that went over well" She said, her voice heavy with sarcasm.

"I kind of yelled at him and he calmed down enough to talk to me at least. He gave me a lot of info as he took his clothes off. I still don't know why he did that. Sure, he was going to take a shower, but he could have waited couldn't he?" She looked questioningly up at Sarah to see if she would have any idea of why.

"Beats me." She said with a small shrug as she folded another t-shirt, and put it in the charcoal pile.

"I mean he even took his pants off. Right there as I was looking."

Sarah had a small smile on her lips. "Maybe he wanted to impress you." She said with a wink.

"Maybe…"

They stopped talking about Sam after that.

Sarah had continued to ask her questions and once Andy had answered Sarah had told her what her own answer to the same questions would have been. It was a nice conversation and Andy learnt a whole lot about Sarah, her husband and her children. When they dropped her off outside her house after they had finished their packing for the day, Andy had felt relieved.

She felt the best that she had felt in the last two weeks, maybe even longer.


	10. Chapter 9

**A/N:** New day, new chapter. Sam's struggling with finding things to do.

I really can't believe the responses you have been giving me to this story! I never expected this, and I find it quite incredible! Thank you all so much for reading and alerting and favoriting and reviewing!

I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Rookie Blue, this is purely written for my own, and hopefully other's enjoyment.

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><p>CHAPTER 9<p>

It was killing him.

Waking up every day to the same deafening silence. Not knowing how the people he cared for were doing, if they were okay, if they needed his help, needed him to protect them.

The last 4 weeks had gone by unbelievably slowly. There was nothing there. No TV, no books, nothing but trees, water and the stupid fishing cabin he was staying in.

When Boyd had called again to update him, the previous week, Sam had asked him to send up some magazines as well as food and more booze. He needed something to do other than stare out at the lake while being haunted by his past, his failings, and thoughts of Andy.

Boyd had sent him adult magazines.

It wasn't that Sam didn't appreciate a good looking woman. But that kind of magazine wasn't exactly what he had had in mind when he'd asked for them. He had wanted more substantial reading. And so the magazines had ended up next to the fireplace to be used as tinder.

The weather was turning colder and, as this fishing cabin apparently was mostly used in the summer, it was poorly insulated.

Boyd's naughty magazines really _did_ come in handy.

Sam had yet to get out of the cabin further than the 50 yards down to the lake ever since his first attempt at canvasing the area, and now that the weather was turning, there was no likelihood of him going outside at all.

He had found some outerwear in one of the closets, but as he had no idea who owned the cabin, he wasn't about to start wearing their clothes either.

At least the crackling fire made enough noise too keep the silence somewhat at bay. And, to his disbelief, Sam actually enjoyed sitting in front of the fireplace, feeling its warmth pour over him in waves.

It had taken him quite some time to get the first fire up and going. He had thought that it would be easy, just stacking some logs on top of some paper and setting it on fire.

On his first try he hadn't even been able to get the paper to burn properly.

His second try left the cabin filled up with smoke, and he had quickly figured out that he had to open the valve to the chimney after that.

On his third try, the paper _did_ catch fire properly, and the logs seemed to start burning, but the fire had been out in a matter of minutes.

He had remembered seeing people blow on their campfires in the movies and had decided to try this accompanied by the removal of some of the logs to let the fire have more air.

Half an hour and a bunch of failed attempts later, his face and hands had been black with soot, but he had finally managed to get a steady fire going.

As he cleaned himself off, the only thought in his mind had been that he couldn't wait to show McNally that he could do outdoorsy camping stuff, and that he couldn't wait to see the look on her face when he'd show her.

Then he had remembered that he was stuck in a cabin, in a place he didn't know, far away from her.

And that she thought he was _dead._

This had brought a serious damper to the caveman-like pride he had felt at being able to make fire. And he had gone back into the living area and moved the couch so that it was facing the fire place before sitting down to stare at the flames through the glass door. Which was what he was now doing, relaxing in the heat radiating from the flames while watching them lick the wood and slowly turn it into charcoal.

* * *

><p>He didn't know when he had fallen asleep. Nor did he know how long he had slept. But when he woke up, the fire was out, and the room was cold and dark.<p>

It was quiet again.

He just sat there, listening to his own breathing while staring at the burnt out logs in the fireplace.

He wondered what it would feel like to burn. To have your skin slowly melt, how painful it must feel, the heat. And then to survive? Your skin all stiff, black, and charred, like those logs behind the glass.

The thought made him shudder.

To get his mind off it he turned to look out the window at the darkness of the skies, the trees and the water. Everything looked like it was the same color, and it left him with a hollow feeling of emptiness.

He was in no mood to try and get another fire going, and because he had just spent hours asleep on the couch, there wouldn't be any use to try to go to bed either.

He really _did_ hate fishing cabins.

He had been to one once before. It was a long time ago now, but he _had_ been to a fishing cabin. At the right time of year even, for a long weekend one summer. He must have been about eleven.

There had been this one boy in his class at school, Pete. He had been the only kid that Sam had felt the slightest connection to. They both weren't too keen on the talking game and Sam had felt like Pete understood him on a level the other kids didn't. Pete knew when to joke around and when to stay quiet and most importantly; he knew how to mind his own business.

The other boys at school had always asked him why. Why his mother never picked him up, why he was always alone, why he always brought lunch from home to eat at school, why his mom didn't make him lunch at home, why, why, why?

Though Sam always had some clever response or diversion for these questions, it was liberating not having to break them out with Pete. Sam had thought that the reason for this was that Pete really knew what was going on, and therefore didn't need to ask.

One day in the school yard as they watched the other boys play basketball during recess, Pete had turned to Sam and asked him if he had ever been to a fishing cabin.

Sam had never even heard of fishing cabins before, but he feigned knowledge, saying nonchalantly that he hadn't really bothered going any of the times he had been offered to come.

Then Pete had asked him if he'd like to come to their cabin for the first weekend of summer holidays.

Sam had gotten excited thinking about how neat it would be to see if his theory, of Pete's family life being like his own, panned out. He had kept his composure and told Pete that he'd need to consult with his parents first, but that he would come back to him.

Sam didn't really need to consult with anyone. Sarah was away, and his mother didn't care one way or the other. She probably wouldn't even notice that he was gone.

He had packed several days in advance and when the day finally came he had been waiting outside their apartment for Pete and his folks to come pick him up.

He wondered if Pete had a dead parent as well, and if so, if his mother or father was as distraught as his own mother. Then he realized that it couldn't be like that. _His_ mother would never take anyone to a fishing cabin, she could never manage. Sam figured that maybe one of Pete's parents was like his mother and the other was normal. There had to at least be _one_ thing that made Pete's life like his own. How else could he understand?

He had felt slightly disappointed when the car pulled up, two smiling parents in the front seat and a smiling Pete in the back.

Sam had plastered a huge smile on his face as Pete's father had gotten out to greet him before taking his bag and putting it in the car.

He had asked if Sam's parents were around, saying that he'd love to meet them.

Sam had lied, as he did just about all the time, telling Pete's father that his parents had left only a matter of minutes before they had pulled up because they had to take his sister somewhere. Pete's dad, Mr. Allen, seemed to accept his explanation as he grabbed Sam's bag and opened the door for him to get into the car.

After a pleasant drive, involving card playing in the back seat with Pete, they arrived at the cabin and Mr. Allen took Pete and Sam to the room with the bunk bed that he and Pete would be sleeping in. Pete called the top bunk, but for Sam it hadn't really mattered. He was just as content with sleeping in the bottom.

That evening, supper had been amazing. Sam had never tasted anything so good in his entire life. Mrs. Allen's cooking was nothing at all like the canned food he was used to making for himself. And so, he had eaten greedily.

It hadn't been on purpose, but the food had just been so amazing that he couldn't help himself. The Allen's didn't seem to mind though, as both Mr. and Mrs. Allen had been smiling at him all through supper asking how such a skinny boy could eat so much food.

After supper, they had all played cards together. Everyone had been smiling and laughing, and Sam had started to wonder if this was how a _real_ family was supposed to be like and that he had been wrong in his first assessment of Pete and why he seemed to understand everything.

That night, as Sam had lain in bed, staring up at the top bunk, he had felt happy. At least he had thought that the feeling he was feeling was happiness. He had a full stomach for the first time since he could remember, he felt like Pete and his parents liked him, that they genuinely enjoyed having him around and spending time with him and for once, he didn't feel in the way.

* * *

><p>The next day Mr. Allen had taken him and Pete fishing. Sam had never gone fishing before. He hadn't even seen a live fish in the wild or any other wild animal for that matter, other than the city's stray dogs, cats, and rats of course.<p>

Mr. Allen had shown him what to do and how to do it, and, to Sam's surprise, he had been really good at it. Mr. Allen had even said so. When Sam had caught his fourth fish in a short amount of time, he had ruffled his hair and said: "Good job, buddy!"

If Sam hadn't been happy the night before, he definitely was after their fishing trip.

That evening, supper had been, if possible, even better than the night before. Mrs. Allen had cooked the fish they had caught, and Sam couldn't believe he'd taste anything that good ever again.

As he had lain in bed that evening, he had been confident that Pete's parents were the ideal parents. The ones every family should be modeled after.

"Pete?" He had asked as he laid there with his arms behind his head, staring up at the top bunk.

"Yeah, Sammy?" Pete's sleepy voice had replied.

"Your parents are the best!"

Pete had stayed silent for a long time before speaking again. "Yeah…"

He had sounded hesitant, unconfident, like he didn't believe his own words. Sam knew it was the cue to either change the subject or stay silent, so he closed his eyes, rolled over onto his side, and fell asleep.

* * *

><p>The next day Mr. Allen had taken Sam and Pete for a hike through the forest. He'd taught them about the animal's different footprints and dung and how you could track them by using this knowledge. Sam had been ecstatic.<p>

When they had decided to go back, Sam and Pete had challenged each other to a race to see who could get back to the cabin first.

Sam had been in the lead, ducking under branches and hopping over fallen logs expertly. He'd only stopped when he had heard Pete's scream.

He had doubled back to find Pete lying on the forest floor clutching his shin which was sporting quite the gash. Sam had been unable to look away as he stood there, staring at the blood trickling out of the wound and onto the moss covered ground below.

Finnaly snapping out of his mesmerized state, he had called out for Mr. Allen, who came jogging towards them, a worried expression on his face.

The moment he had seen Pete clutching his leg, the worry had given way to annoyance.

Mr. Allen had proceeded to grab Pete's shirt by the collar and yanked him abruptly to his feet. He had then started asking Pete, in a low and overly pleasant voice, with a strained smile, if he had thought that it was a good idea to fall, how on earth he could be so stupid as to trip in the forest, what kind of retard didn't look where he was running and, when he had noticed that the tears were still streaming down Pete's face, if he could stop being such a wuss for five minutes.

Sam had been staring back and forth between the overly pleasant sounding, Mr. Allen, and Pete, whose head hung low, tears still streaming down his face and the blood still trickling from his wound.

When Mr. Allen had started dragging Pete along back towards the cabin, Sam hadn't known what to do other than follow them in silence.

As they approached the front deck, Mrs. Allen had come outside to greet them. She had stared at them as they slowly came closer, Sam in the back with his head hung low behind Pete who was limping along whilehe being dragged by his father.

"See what your idiot of a son did!" Mr. Allen had shouted when they were in earshot.

"Oh, God! Pete!" Mrs. Allen exclaimed as she bounded down the steps towards them. She had pulled Pete out of his father's grasp and held him close to her chest while stroking his hair. "What happened to your leg, baby?"

"He was too stupid to see where he was going." Mr. Allen spat as he stared at the two in disgust.

Sam had wanted to disappear. He had wished that Sarah wasn't sick and had been old enough to drive so she could come get him, that his mother had cared enough to have come for him, but he knew there was no one he could rely on to do that.

And so, he had stood there, watching as Mrs. Allen cradled an, a little bit too big, Pete in her arms, rocking back and forth to get him to stop crying, while Mr. Allen stood over them yelling at her:

"The only reason he's still crying, or _was_ crying at all is because of your babying!"

"Come here, Sam. Let's go inside." Mrs. Allen had said, ignoring her husband's yelling and getting to her feet taking Pete's hand to lead him inside.

Sam had walked a big circle around Mr. Allen, weary of what would happen if he got too close, and headed towards the cabin.

"You don't get to walk away from me!" Mr. Allen had shouted as his wife turned her back on him.

Sam hadn't dared to look back, but had walked as quickly and quietly as he could towards the cabin.

"Do you hear me! You don't get to walk away from me!"

When he had reached the cabin, Sam finally dared to turn and look back. He had seen Pete vigorously shaking his head as his mother urged him to continue ahead up to the cabin. She had put her hands on his cheeks and told him everything would be okay, that he should go play with Sam, and that she'd come inside in a little while. Pete had nodded sadly and turned around to limp towards Sam and the cabin.

They had just closed the door when they heard her piercing scream and what sounded like, and Sam had known that it was, someone getting beaten.

He had looked over at Pete, who had been standing with his hands covering his ears, eyes closed, rocking back and forth.

Sam had felt like he needed to do something; to help his friend, to help Mrs. Allen.

Another scream had sounded from outside, making him look at the door. It had been louder than the previous one.

Sam had looked back at Pete. He was shaking. Sam had to do something. He couldn't just stand there and let this happen. His friend shouldn't have to feel like that. _No one_ should have to feel like that.

And so he decided.

He'd swung open the door, clenched his fists and stepped out onto the porch...

* * *

><p>Back then he'd learnt to trust his gut, no matter what. He had also learnt that secrets always came out some way, and that they usually never came out the way you want them to. He'd later developed his own adage; 'Secrets don't come out all neat and tidy'<p>

He'd told her that.

Back when they'd worked that amber alert.

Back when he was mad at her for going to Callaghan's cabin.

Why was his mind so stuck on those stupid fishing cabins?


	11. Chapter 10

**A/N: **Another Andy-chapter, things are moving forward.

I've had a busy weeked thus far, but am off to reply to all of your reviews from yesterday now. I can't thank you enough for all of your kind words!

I hope you enjoy this chapter as well!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Rookie Blue, this is purely written for my own, and hopefully other's enjoyment.

* * *

><p>CHAPTER 10<p>

Andy had been spending quite some time with Sarah and her family the following weeks after she had walked aimlessly to end up outside Sam's house.

The day after she had helped them pack up Sam's apartment, they had come to pick her up to help with the rest.

For a simple guy, Sam sure had a lot of stuff.

Talking about Sam with Sarah and hearing stories from their childhood had been just what Andy had needed to get back to reality. At first she had questioned how Sarah could act so happy, laughing and joking about Sam as if he had just gone out to buy something and would be back any minute.

Sarah had jokingly told her that compartmentalizing was a Swarek family trait before turning to a more serious note, telling Andy that; as much as she missed her brother and how much it hurt to think about never seeing him or talking to him again, she would rather think about the times they had shared and the fun they had had together. She said that she had learnt long ago that burying oneself in the pain never solved anything.

Andy had an inkling of which event had taught her that, but she hadn't said anything.

Sarah was the one who had managed to convince Andy to get back to work, the one who convinced her to continue her life. Sarah made her realize that no matter how much it hurt not seeing him, not riding with him, not talking to him; she shouldn't let it keep her from living her life. No one would want that for her, especially Sam.

When her husband and children had left to go back to St. Catharines, Sarah had stayed behind in Toronto to finish up the mass of affairs that was left, like cancelling bank accounts, ending his lease and other paperwork to remove him from lists and register his death.

During the course of these weeks, the two of them had grown close. Sarah gave Andy a little part of Sam that made the loss of him a little less overwhelming and therefore a little less painful. And Andy was sure that if she hadn't had Sarah, her grief would have been tenfold of what it now was.

* * *

><p>"Are you going out?"<p>

"Yeah. I'm meeting Sarah. She'll be going back to St. Catharines soon." Andy responded, looking over at Luke from her uncomfortable bent over position as she was tying her shoes.

"You're really good friends, huh?" He asked, a hint of sadness to his voice.

"Yeah…" Andy said with a small smile, thinking about how close she and Sarah really had gotten since she had first seen her three weeks earlier.

She realized that it had been a month since she had been told about Sam, and her muscles tensed preparing to brace her from the overwhelming mass of sadness and despair she would feel.

But the emotions didn't surface, making her frown in surprise.

"I hardly ever see you anymore."

"I know." Andy said compassionately as she stood up and walked over to him. She wanted to do what a girlfriend should do and kiss him, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. Instead she put an awkward hand on his, which was resting on a small end-table.

"I'm sorry." She said.

She knew she shouldn't be putting him through this. That she should end it. What feelings she may have had for him in the past had immediately been moved to the back of her heart when she had found out about Sam. Luke had been the last thing on her mind for a month now, and it didn't seem like he was ever going to be in the forefront again.

She removed her hand from his.

"I'm sorry." She said again.

"It's okay. I get it." He said being the ever understanding boyfriend.

"No. I'm sorry for putting you through this." She said. She had been planning on talking to him for a long time, but the first half of the month she had been too caught up in her grieving and the latter half, she had gotten back to work, and between her work, his work and her spending time with Sarah, there really hadn't been any opportunity to talk to him.

"You deserve better."

He frowned as his blue eyes looked into her brown ones.

"We're really just living together, as roommates, aren't we?" She commented looking away.

"We can get back to it." He said, a slight desperation in his voice.

"I don't think we can. You're a really great guy Luke, but…"

"Look. I know you cared about Swarek all right? But he's gone now. He'll never be back. You have to move on." As he spoke his eyes had been hard and piercing. She felt horrible. The moment he stopped speaking, however, they turned apologetic and pleading, begging her for another chance.

"Yeah. He _is_ gone." She said, her voice laden with sadness. "And I now know that I don't want to settle. I want it all. I should have realized that earlier."

"You might as well take _this_ then." He spat tossing a small blue piece of cloth at her.

It fell to the floor between them, its white letters showing clearly against the navy blue.

_SWAREK_

Andy felt her heart stop and she was unable to draw breath as she stared at the nametag. She had forgotten all about taking it, that little piece of his uniform, his name. _-Had Luke had it this whole time?_ She wondered as her mind wouldn't let her stop reading the white capital letters making up his name.

"Aren't you going to take it?"

She gasped in surprise at the sound of his voice. Seeing the nametag again had brought up all of the emotions, or rather, lack of emotion she had felt just one month ago.

"Go on. Take it." There was nothing encouraging in his voice, just animosity.

She stared into his hard and icy blue eyes.

"I'm sorry, Luke." She said before bending her knees and picking up the nametag.

She heard him sigh as she stood back up, but she didn't look at him. They were over. There was nothing more to say.

She turned and walked out the door, leaving him alone in the hallway.

* * *

><p>"Hey, how are you?" Sarah asked with a small smile when she pulled into the driveway, of what <em>had<em> been Andy and Luke's house, a while later and Andy opened the car door. Andy was shaking from the cold as she had stood outside waiting for at least 20 minutes, not wanting to go back inside and face Luke again.

"Cold." Andy replied as she got in the passenger's seat and put her hands on the heater to warm them up.

"Why didn't you wait inside?" Sarah asked as she pulled out onto the road.

Andy sighed. "Because I broke up with Luke?" She looked hesitantly over at Sarah.

"You did?" Andy could hear surprise in her voice but it also held a hint of excitement. "Good for you!" She shot Andy a quick dimpled smile before turning her attention back onto the road.

"Yeah, I don't know. I feel horrible now." Andy said rubbing her hands together. The action made her realize that she was still holding the nametag. She opened her right hand and looked at the blue rectangle.

"What's that?" Sarah asked, curiously shooting glances over at Andy's hand.

"Sam's nametag." Andy said sadly. She missed him so much. It felt like a piece of her was gone. A piece she'd never get back.

"Where'd you get that?"

"I took it." Andy whispered, still staring at the piece of cloth.

"When?"

"The day I found out." Her words were barely audible.

"I took his t-shirt too… I kept smelling it…. God, I miss him so much." She whispered and she could feel hot tears running slowly down her cheeks.

"I know." Sarah said with compassion, her right hand leaving the steering wheel to rest comfortingly on Andy's left shoulder.

It brought Andy over the edge and she leaned forward with a loud sob.

Taking the nametag and the t-shirt had been her last attempt at clinging on to him, some way of reassuring herself that he wasn't completely gone. Seeing the tag again had brought her right back to when she had taken it.

Sarah ran her hand slowly up and down Andy's back. It felt good to know that someone was there. That someone understood.

"Hey. I got some interesting info today." Sarah said in a light, slightly encouraging, tone a short while later.

Andy was still putting in a lot of effort trying to silence her sobs and stop her tears, but still, her ears managed to take in Sarah's words.

"Turns out the rent for the apartment was already paid six months in advance."

"What? Why?" Andy managed to squeeze out between sobs, which were less violent now.

"Beats me. Maybe he was planning to go away."

"Go away? Like undercover you mean?" A sliver of hope fluttered deep in Andy's stomach, but she knew it had no grounds. She had been to his funeral.

Boyd had been by the precinct with crime scene photos before she had managed to get back to work. She hadn't looked at them herself, but a lot of the others had, and there was no doubt at all with anyone on the force that he was gone.

"I don't know… It's just weird." Sarah sighed.

"You know Boyd came by with the crime scene photos and the autopsy report right?" Andy said, knowing that Sarah would also be harboring the sliver of hope that she had felt just seconds ago.

Sarah swallowed loudly and nodded, her eyes focusing hard on the road.

"Anyway." She said after a couple more swallows. "I'm guessing you need somewhere to stay?"

"What?" Andy looked over at her. "You mean… Me? Stay there? I don't know." Her mind was working rapidly. Would she be able to live in a place she knew had been _his_, was still his, a place that he had paid for with _his_ money?

"Yeah. Why not? It's not like he needs it," She joked. "…and it's already paid for." She added in a more serious tone.

Andy stayed silent contemplating whether it would be a good idea or not. It would bring back memories and most likely induce feelings of regret and guilt. But she'd have free housing for a while. And in a way she'd be close to him, it might be nice to stay where he had lived for so long.

"You can try it out for a while." Sarah suggested.

Andy felt uncertain. She was afraid of what she'd feel when she'd step foot inside the apartment. How she'd feel sleeping there, and she was afraid that she wouldn't be able to move on.

"I'm staying there myself until I leave." Sarah said. Turning on the blinker and making a left turn onto a side street. "Loads cheaper than that hotel. And a lot nicer if I might say so myself." She said with a small smile in Andy's direction.

"Come on." Sarah said when Andy remained silent. "It'll be like a sleep over."

Andy couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped. "Okay."

"Great!" Sarah smiled as she pulled over and killed the engine.

Andy looked out the window and realized they were parked outside the exact same house they had been discussing.

Had Sarah known she would agree all along?

As Sarah stepped out of the car, she turned to look back at Andy. She studied her for a while then her face broke into a big grin. "I knew."

Andy frowned. "How do you know me so well?"


	12. Chapter 11

**A/N: **This is the longest chapter of them all! I really hope it doesn't feel too long, but if I would have cut it down one of the parts would have been way too short.

Hope you like it!

Enjoy!

And still: I can not believe the responses you have given me to this story! I could never have imagined getting this good feedback!

THANK YOU!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Rookie Blue, this is purely written for my own, and hopefully other's enjoyment.

* * *

><p>CHAPTER 11<p>

5 weeks.

5 weeks of nothing.

5 weeks alone with his thoughts.

5 weeks without seeing the person he had grown accustomed to seeing, and looked forward to seeing, almost every day.

5 weeks of trying to keep his mind off of her, of hoping she was okay and not getting into too much trouble.

5 weeks was a _long_ time.

He was sick and tired of it all. He'd started cleaning the place every other day to keep himself busy. Even the fireplace was shiny. He'd fixed the sink, which had been dripping, the shower, which had also been dripping, and leveled out the unevenness of the table. He had even sewn a hole on the underside of one of the couch cushions.

Now there was absolutely _nothing_ left to do. The place was in pristine condition.

He stood behind the couch, looking around to see if there was anything else that needed fixing, but there wasn't.

He heard a faint buzzing sound and went into the bedroom to find his phone.

"Yah."

"Swarek." It was Boyd. Sam wasn't surprised. He was the only one who ever called him. The only one who _could_ call him. He was the only person who had the number.

"You got good news for me?" Sam sighed, his gut telling him that good news was a long shot.

"About the case? No." Boyd said casually. "About that annoying rookie of yours? Yes."

Sam's heart fluttered at the mention of Andy, but he didn't want Boyd to know this. It didn't matter how much he wanted to know the news, he needed to act like he didn't care.

"Why would you need to give me news about my _old_ rookie?" He said, stressing old to try to make it clear that he had no interest in knowing whatever news Boyd had.

"Give me a break! Everyone who's anyone can see it." Boyd said, sounding annoyed.

"See what?" Sam said, playing dumb.

"That something's up."

"Up? Wha...? I don't know what you're talking about."

"You know all too well what I'm talking about." He had his 'don't give me this crap, Sammy' voice on now.

Sam sighed. With Ollie it usually worked playing dumb to get him to let it go. Boyd wasn't Ollie though, and Boyd wasn't having any of Sam's bull. But there was no way Sam would admit to his feelings to Boyd of all people. And what was he talking about, 'everyone who's anyone can see it'?

"What's the news?" Sam said, in an attempt to drive the attention away from his 'what kind of relationship is this?'-thing with Andy.

"Diverting now, are we?" Boyd said, and Sam knew he was smiling like an idiot because by changing the subject he had somewhat confirmed Boyd's assumption.

"Yeah, yeah. Shut up and tell me already." Sam said impatiently. He really didn't feel like talking to Boyd anymore.

"She's finally back at work."

Sam's heart stopped for a second. She hadn't been at work? Why? Had she been hurt? Had she been sick? Why hadn't Boyd told him she wasn't working?

Sam needed answers to his questions. And, even though he knew asking them would further confirm Boyd's suspicions, he couldn't help himself. He didn't even bother to try not to sound concerned.

"How long was she away? Why? Did she get hurt? Sick? She's better now right? Did she have to go to the hospital?" The questions were a jumbled mass of words that just poured out of him.

"'Bout a month, you, no, no, seems better, no."

"Huh?" Sam said, dumbfounded by Boyd's reply.

"She has been off for about a month."

One month. That meant… "What? After I..?"

"Yeah. After she found out."

"Why didn't you tell me this before!" Sam practically screamed into the phone.

"I knew _that_ would happen." Boyd said hinting to Sam's outburst. "And because you would have had to go back to check on her, and we can't afford that. We're getting closer and closer to nailing these guys. We couldn't have you screwing up the case because of a girl."

Sam knew he was right. He would have found a way back to Toronto. But why was she off work though? And why had she been off for such a long time? What had happened?

"Do you know why?"

"Are you really that stupid?" Boyd sighed loudly. "I thought you knew people, were able to get under their skin and know what they think. Remind me not to put you undercover again, okay?" Boyd said in a harsh tone.

After another sigh, Boyd continued. "You really don't get it? It's because of _you_. YOU!"

"What? What do you mean?"

Sam could hear Boyd sighing on the other end. But he really couldn't see why it would affect her that badly. Unless… Unless…

His heart stilled for the second time.

No.

She couldn't... If she did she wouldn't be with…

But? No.

No.

"I see I'm not really getting anywhere with you right now, so I'm going to tell you as clearly as I can: SHE FEELS THE SAME WAY AS YOU!" He said the last words slowly as if speaking to an old lady with poor hearing.

Yes!

Yes?

What?

But…

No!

Sam couldn't wrap his mind around it. Why hadn't she..? Why hadn't _he_..?

Really?

"Okay, I guess you have enough to think about. I might call you back later or if we make any progress okay?"

Sam barely heard him, or the sound of him hanging up. His mind was trying to get used to the thought of his feelings actually being reciprocated. It was making his head hurt, and he was feeling kind of dizzy as he sat there on the couch staring at nothing in particular.

He couldn't believe it.

Had Boyd really said that she felt the same way as he did?

But Boyd didn't know how strongly Sam felt, and so he couldn't know that she felt the same way. It would be impossible.

And if she did, why hadn't he seen it? Why hadn't he noticed? He always paid such careful attention to her. To everything she said, everything she did.

No, she couldn't feel the way he felt. He would have noticed.

And why hadn't she said something, done something, if she felt like him? He had made it clear to her hadn't he? Going out of his way to help her, making sure she was alright, that she was safe? He even tried letting her in by telling her about Sarah.

If Andy had been as distraught as Boyd described her, needing to stay away from work for a month, then how was Sarah doing?

He really hoped she had taken the news better than Andy. She had had enough bad things happen to her in a lifetime, and hadn't really needed or deserved any more. He wished he hadn't had to pretend to die, and wondered how on earth they were supposed to reintroduce him now that everyone was starting to move on.

Would they be angry, or just hurt? Or would they just be happy that he was back, that he wasn't dead? Would they understand why? Would they think he had been selfish? It hadn't even been in his hands. He'd just been taken away in a hurry. They couldn't be mad at him for that, could they?

His thought ventured to where they weren't supposed to again as he started thinking about how much losing Sarah had hurt _him_. And _she_ hadn't even gone away.

Not at first anyway…

And even so; he was the one who convinced her, almost forced her, to go get help.

He remembered when she came home after it happened. She was crying, and her face was bruised.

He'd watched from the sofa as she entered the dark room. It had been late, and she had been out with those boys again. He hadn't dared talking to her. He hadn't known what to say.

When she had looked at him, she had reminded him so much of their mother, with the silent tears and the pain in her eyes. Her gaze had given him the feeling that she couldn't really manage to be around him.

She had turned around and gone back out in the hallway.

Sam had thought she wanted to wait to come back in until he'd be asleep. But he hadn't been tired, so he had gotten up and opened the door.

"S-Sarah?"

She had been sitting in the corner by the stairwell.

"I-I'm not tired. If you want to be alone, _I_ can sit here. It's okay."

She hadn't moved except for the slight shivers that came with her silent sobs.

"I'll sit here, no problem. You just come get me when you're feeling better." He had tried to smile, but he had known something was terribly wrong with his sister and it had made smiling impossible.

"Go to bed."

"But…" He'd frowned. "But I'm not tired. You can use my bed, okay? I don't mind."

"Thanks, Sammy, but what would really make me feel better was if you went to bed. NOW." She looked up at him, her eyes stern and hard.

He had swallowed nervously. She rarely gave him that look.

"O-Okay." He had said, nodding hurriedly. "I'll go to bed." He had whispered as he'd turned around and gone back inside the small apartment and gotten back under the covers on the sofa.

* * *

><p>When a week had gone by, the bruises on her face had begun dissipating, but she had yet to leave the house. And she had still been crying almost continuously.<p>

The few times she stopped, she had started right back up again the moment Sam had attempted to talk to her.

She had stopped making them food, stopped making sure he got off to school all right, stopped going out, and stopped talking to him all together.

He had been forced to step up, to be the caretaker, to make sure that his sister and mother had what they needed. By that time, he had already somewhat given up on trying to reach out to his mother, but Sarah…

Sarah had been so nice to him. She had taken such good care of him. He had wanted to make things go back to the way they were, to have his sister back. He missed seeing her smile, hearing her laugh, to see any other expression than the sad and distraught one she continuously wore.

One day, after he had been at the grocery shop, he'd walked by a bookstore where a book in the window display had caught his attention. _101 jokes, guaranteed to make you laugh_.

A light had flicked on in his head, and he had known that this was what he had been looking for, what would bring his sister back, the solution to all his problems.

It had been expensive, but he had been sure it would be worth it. He'd just eat a little less for a couple of weeks. It was worth it to get his sister back.

He had it memorized by a in no time at all, and had tried them out at school getting huge laughs from the other kids. It had really boosted his confidence that it was going to work. That the jokes were going to lighten Sarah's mood and make her a little more like she was before.

When she wasn't crying as much anymore and she had been able to sit at the dining table with him a couple of times to eat an entire meal of whatever canned food or simple sandwiches he made for them, he had decided to try it out.

"Sarah?" He had said nervously.

She'd put down her sandwich and stared at him with sad eyes.

"Uhm…" He swallowed and took a deep breath. "Have you ever had a henway?"

She had just frowned at him and shook her head before continuing to eat her food.

It hadn't worked, so he figured that he'd need another setting, to pull the joke on someone else while Sarah was there. Then she'd get it. He was sure she would.

That was why he had tried to get her to go with him to the beach.

She had been hesitant at first, and it had taken a couple of months to convince her that it would be a good idea, that it would be just what she needed.

On his birthday she had agreed to come, as her gift to him. He had assured her he would protect her and that he'd make sure she didn't get into any uncomfortable situations.

How could he have known she'd be uncomfortable anywhere outside?

They'd gotten down the street to the bus stop without a hitch. They had gotten on the bus, Sam had paid, and he had made sure that he had the aisle seat. People had gotten on and off, and Sarah had been staring out the window. Everything had seemed like it was going so smoothly.

Then Sarah had looked away from the window.

At first she had just been rocking back and forth slowly, but then, as her anxiety increased, her rocking sped up, and it started to draw attention to them.

Sam had tried to calm her down, but the moment he put his hand on hers she had begun screaming, resulting in them getting thrown off the bus.

The moment he had managed to get her off, which had involved a lot of screaming and some thrown punches resulting in a black eye for him, she had collapsed in tears on the sidewalk.

It had been a real struggle getting her home. A ten year old skinny boy trying to carry his sister, who had almost four years on him, had not been easy.

When they finally got home, he had known that there was nothing he could do to help her. He knew that she needed professional help, but he had no idea how to get it for her.

He had spent close to a year trying to find a way to get her help while still making sure he would be able to stay at home, and through a massive amount of research, a huge amount of effort in convincing Sarah and a whole lot of forged signatures, he had somehow managed just that.

Thinking back made him realize what a resourceful child he had been. He wished he'd never have had to do those things. That he hadn't been forced to grow up so fast. That he had been allowed to be a child.

But still, it was because of all these things he was who he was today, and that did count for something.

* * *

><p>Sarah going away to get help meant that Sam had ended up alone with his mother, which in general meant alone.<p>

After Sarah left, his mother had gotten worse. She hardly ate the food he put in the fridge for her, and she looked more and more tired every time he'd watch her come home from work from under the covers on the sofa.

Sarah was still living at the institution when he turned thirteen.

His mother had then gotten so skinny that it had pained him just to watch her, and he hadn't been able to understand how she managed to work as much as she did. Yet every month there was a bundle of cash on the kitchen counter for him to buy food and other essentials.

Since Sarah had gone away, there had been more money, and in an effort to distract himself from the situation he was involuntarily put in, he started going to the movies.

He only watched the happy ones, imagining that he was one of the lead characters. That his life was simple, easy and that everything always turned out wonderful. It left him with a sense of hope. That somehow, in the end, everything would work out for him.

Then he'd come home, hear his mother's crying from the bedroom, and all the hope would be sucked out, making him miserable and resentful again.

He had wanted to help her, but he hadn't known how. Every time he tried talking to her, she'd just look at him sadly before walking away. There was no way he'd get her to go voluntarily like he had convinced Sarah to do, and he could never force her to do anything against her will.

He worried that she didn't get enough nourishment, that she would just shrivel away into nothing, that he'd lose her. Not that he really had her in the first place, but he didn't want to be all alone.

He worried about Sarah too. If she was getting better, if they were treating her right, if she was ever going to get back to her old self.

At school he pretended like nothing was wrong. That he had two parents, both alive and well, that his sister was at boarding school overseas, and that he was happy as a clam. He didn't really think he was doing such a good job, but everyone seemed to believe him. But that didn't stop his constant worrying that someone, someday would see through his mask.

He was good at reading people. He always had been, and when asked about his family and home life he'd just tell them what they wanted to hear and they'd accept it. Always.

He had kind of enjoyed toying with people like that. He'd been amazed by how easily he could get someone to do what he wanted them to just by giving them a look or saying the right thing at the right time. And the skills he had built back then definitely came in handy in his job as a cop.

He frowned as he thought about actually being happy about something his childhood had left him with, he would never, in a million years, have thought he'd ever experience that.

* * *

><p>When Sarah had come back to live with them again, a short while after Sam's 14th birthday, she had been different from how he remembered her.<p>

She was more confident, less frazzled when things went badly, more open and direct, and a whole lot more grown up.

Her newfound directness made Sam uneasy, she'd push and push until he'd let her in, but it hadn't felt right talking to her. He had given her only the tip of the iceberg he was carrying within, keeping the brunt of his thoughts to himself, locking them away for no one to hear but him.

When she'd told him about what happened, he had become filled with anger. At the boys who had done it, at the authorities for not being there, at whoever lived nearby for not doing anything, and at himself for not being there to protect her.

He had known it was foolish. That he had been 9 at the time, with no way of being able to defend her. But still, it ate away at him.

Sarah had gotten a job waitressing at a nearby restaurant, and every day Sam would wait outside, as her shift finished, to walk her home. He finally had her back, and there was no way he'd let her get hurt again.

It was at that time he decided. That he knew that he would do everything in his power to make sure no one else had to go through what his sister had gone through ever again.

That he wanted to become a police officer.

Sam had thought that maybe their mother would get better when Sarah returned, that she'd start eating properly again, that he wouldn't have to worry anymore, but she didn't. If anything she started eating even less and working even more.

Towards the one year anniversary of Sarah's discharge from the institution, their mother had looked so skeletal, that Sam had wondered how she managed to stay upright, let alone work all of the hours that she did.

When she passed away he hadn't felt sad, he'd felt relieved, free.

She had never really been a presence in his life, yet his mind had been on her wellbeing constantly. It had felt good to be able to let go of the mother who hadn't loved him. Who had spent all her time distancing herself from her children by working.

He wondered what he would have been like if she had paid more attention to him. If she'd told him that she cared, if she'd shown him that she did.

Would he have had a family by now?

Would he have been more like Ollie?

Would he even have been a cop?

He was jealous of Sarah.

Jealous of how she had managed to let go of their past. How she had been able to move on, to get herself a husband, and her sons.

He had toyed with the thought of trying to work out his issues with a shrink. He'd decided against it, thinking that he didn't need help. That the only help he'd ever need was from his partner in relation to work.

He knew he had been lying to himself.

He knew it was because he was scared.

Scared that everyone would look at him differently.

Scared that people would leave if they found out how he'd lied to them all.

Scared that he would change.

His past was his past, and nothing could change that. He was happy with how it had shaped him, how he had turned out, and he didn't want to be different.

Well…

Maybe he _would_ change, but only for the right person.

Only for _her._

Come to think of it, he had already started trying to change for her, trying to open up, trying to let her in, trying to show her that he cared about her more than he had ever cared about anyone.

Why hadn't she seen it?

Why couldn't she understand?

Why didn't she see?

He thought he had been so clear...

Making sure she was okay after every shift, offering to do just about anything for her, telling her about his life, about his work, just being there whenever she'd need him.

He never acted like that with anyone else.

Maybe it wasn't that obvious from the outside…

Wait…

Really..?

How hadn't he seen it before?

The money always lying on the kitchen counter every month and working herself to the bone: Had his mother done it for him? Had it been her way of showing him she still cared, not just an obligation? How had he not noticed?

She had been unable to look at him, to spend time with him without being reminded of what she had lost, and so, to show him that she still cared for him; she'd worked herself to death in order to provide him with the funds he needed to sustain himself. Though this fulfilled his physical needs, his emotional ones had been neglected.

Had she loved him?

And more importantly: Was he doing the same to Andy? Did she need him to actually _tell_ her, not just show her how much he cared?

He was suddenly freed from his mind back into reality, and realized that he was still holding the phone to his ear. He let it drop to the couch and stared at the wall.

He had to go to Toronto.

NOW.

* * *

><p>The bus ride was longer than he had remembered. Then again he <em>had <em>been in a daze due to lack of sleep and the overwhelming situation he had been thrown into. Stepping down onto the platform at the bus station, he felt uneasy, but he convinced himself that he needed to be there, that he needed to see that she was all right, and that he needed to know what had happened while he had been away playing dead.

His mind began clearing somewhat as he took in the sights, sounds and smells of the city. The compartments that had so readily been opened at the cabin, were now closed shut and locked away deep inside. He was feeling like himself again. Well, except for the one realization that had stuck with him: He needed to see her and actually _tell_ her how much he loved her.

In his hurry to get to Toronto, he hadn't brought anything but the cell phone Boyd had provided for him. He had no money, no change of clothes, nothing.

Why had he been in such a rush?

How could _one girl_ have such an effect on him?

It didn't matter. However she did it, she _did_ have that effect on him, and he would readily drop everything just to see her, no questions asked.

He took a deep breath taking in the smells of the city that he'd missed so much at the cabin, before walking out of the bus station. He needed to get some food.

As he had been too preoccupied with his mind to bother really taking care of his appearance the last couple of weeks, it wasn't difficult for him to step into the role of drug addict begging for some food money. It also helped that his mind had kept him up, leaving his eyes blood shot from lack of sleep.

It didn't take long before the hospitable people of Toronto had given him enough money so that he could get himself a hot dog which stilled the worst of the hunger.

He wondered where he should go first to find her. If she was working she was probably out on patrol. She would have had the evening off according to her regular shift routine, but he didn't know if they might have changed it after he 'died'.

He really wasn't feeling like going to her house check on her and find her with Callaghan in their magical lala-land, so he decided to get into the division's more crime ridden areas. Someone was bound to show up there, and they'd might give him a clue as to if she was working or not. And so; he started walking towards Regent Park.

He hadn't been in the area five minutes when the phone in his pocket rang.

"Yah." He answered as he brought it to his ear.

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING!" Boyd's voice boomed out of the phone, forcing Sam to hold it at arm's length in order to not hurt his ear.

"What do you mean?" He feigned stupidity even though he knew it wouldn't work.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING BACK IN THE CITY!"

"Me? Back? What?" Sam said slighly amused by Boyd's level of anger.

"They saw you." The words made Sam's smile fade. "Where are you?"

"Regent Park." Sam dropped the act now. He knew he was in trouble. BIG trouble.

"Go to the old safe house there, and wait for me. _I'll_ pick you up in a couple of minutes and take you somewhere safe."

"Got it." Sam said before he heard the beep indicating that Boyd had hung up. He groaned at himself for being so stupid. How could he have been so reckless? Why hadn't he thought of them being there?

He slumped his shoulders and hung his head low, before taking on his druggie walk and heading towards his old safe house.

* * *

><p>Sam had never seen Boyd more pissed off than he had been when he came to pick him up.<p>

He gave Sam the silent treatment and didn't look at him at all. Sam knew to keep his mouth shut, and they had ridden in silence to another one of G'nGs safe houses. He ushered Sam inside before sitting down on a dingy couch. Sam could hear the annoyance and anger in every single one of his heavy sighs.

He was waiting for the yelling to start. Waiting to be told off for coming back, for jeopardizing the entire investigation, for ruining the biggest bust any unit out of Toronto had ever encountered.

He waited, and waited, and waited, but it didn't happen. Boyd just sat there, deliberately not looking at him, his anger, annoyance, frustration and disappointment clearly written on his face.

Then his phone started ringing and he left the room to answer it, leaving Sam alone.

As much as Sam hated himself for having acted without thought, for jeopardizing the case and maybe screwing it up all together, what he hated even more was that he hadn't gotten the chance to see Andy.

His conscious mind was focused on Boyd; trying to figure out who he was talking to on the phone, what was going to happen, if the investigation had indeed fallen apart. Every other fiber of his being, though, was screaming at him to get out of there, to run and find her, to check if she was okay, to tell her that he loved her, that he needed her.

When Boyd returned from his phone call, he was looking at Sam again. He was calmer and his expression wasn't as hard.

He told Sam that they had been in luck. His voice was strict, but Sam saw the relief in his eyes as he proceeded to tell him that Sam had only been seen by one of GnG's UC guys and that the operation was still in play. Sam smiled a strained smile, as he was still waiting for Boyd to start yelling.

Boyd continued telling him that he would have to stay in this safe house until the investigation was over, and that he was, under no condition, allowed to step foot outside the door, and that the one who would be in charge of that not happening would be no other than Boyd himself.

Sam knew the reason for this. Boyd didn't trust him not to go after Andy, and he was right in not doing so. If left alone again, Sam had no doubt he'd try to go out and find her. He had just realized what it was he needed to do; there was no way he'd willingly stay cooped up alone. Especially while knowing she could be just around the corner.


	13. Chapter 12

**A/N:** More Andy-Sarah interaction, Andy is let in on the Swarek family history.

As always. I hope you enjoy it

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Rookie Blue, this is purely written for my own, and hopefully other's enjoyment.

* * *

><p>CHAPTER 12<p>

"This is really good." Andy said with her mouth full.

Sarah smiled at her. "I see why he cared so much about you."

Andy felt slightly embarrassed and swallowed the chicken she had been chewing.

"Why? Because I speak with my mouth full?" She joked.

Sarah shook her head and took a sip of wine. "You're just so nice and sweet and stubborn and fun and determined and brave and…" She paused studying Andy's face. "I think I could go on forever, but judging by the colors of your cheeks it's time to stop now." She chuckled.

Andy knew she had been blushing, but Sarah pointing it out made her whole body heat up with embarrassment. She turned her eyes to her plate and took another bite of her food.

"Uhm… Sarah?" Andy asked hesitantly. She had questions she needed answered but had been afraid to ask, afraid that her questions would make Sarah not like her and make her leave. She was always harboring that fear that everyone would leave.

"Yeah?"

"Do you…. Can I ask you something?" Andy put her fork down on her plate. "Or maybe a bunch of things really?"

"Sure, anything."

"Do you think he… Sam." She clarified. "Do you think he loved me?"

"I…" She looked at Andy without really focusing at her. "I think he did." She said, her eyes connecting with Andy's.

_-What does she mean she thinks he did?_ Andy thought, and her question must have been written on her face because Sarah continued.

"The thing about my brother: Yes, he was a fool for love, but he was not good at verbalizing said love, or any emotion besides anger and frustration, really." She said making a silly face.

Turning to a more serious note, she continued "I have had major problems with it myself. It's not that we don't love or care, we just have a hard time expressing it with words and talking about it in the open."

Andy smiled sadly. She knew all too well how uncomfortable Sam acted the times they had happened to stray into more emotional conversations.

"So, my point about saying 'I think he did' is not because I _don't_ think he did and didn't want to hurt you. It's because I think he did but he never said it in so many words."

Andy nodded in understanding.

"That being said; whenever I talked to him this past year since he came back from his undercover; not one time did he not mention you in some way or another. And that _does_ speak volumes. I haven't experienced him like that since he was seventeen and had his first big crush." She winked at Andy.

"So let me rephrase my previous words: I believe he _did_ love you." She finished with a sincere, dimpled smile.

"Thanks." Andy smiled back.

"Don't mention it." Sarah said taking a bite of chicken.

They ate for a while, and Andy realized that she was actually enjoying the silence. Just listening to the sounds of their breathing and eating. Just sitting there, sharing a meal and being alive together. If this was the kind of silence Sam was used to, she could see why he liked it so much.

"So you had more questions?" Sarah said when neither of them had spoken for quite a while.

It caught Andy off guard, and she didn't understand what she was talking about at first.

"Oh, yeah!" Andy said when she remembered her previous babbling about a bunch of questions. "Okay. So, if you don't want to answer, you don't have to, okay?"

Sarah shot one of the Sam-like frowns at her.

"I mean. They're kind of personal. So if you don't want to answer, you don't have to."

Sarah's expression had turned into an exasperated get-to-the-question-already.

"Okay." Andy said uncomfortably as a thought rushed across her mind telling her that the Swareks sure had the non-verbal communication down to a T.

"I just wondered. I mean… Ever since the…" She said, not sure how to lead into the questions.

"Andy, just ask. I'm sitting right here, and I'm not going anywhere right now." Sarah said with a small, encouraging smile, Andy could still see the impatience in her eyes though.

"Ok." Andy said with a quick nod. "I was wondering what it was like for you growing up." Andy felt her body cringe slightly preparing for Sarah to get up and leave, as her mind told her over and over again that she would.

Sarah didn't leave though. She just sat there, looking calmly at Andy's face. Making her feel like she was being sized up, like Sarah was deciding whether she would be worth telling.

"Hard." Sarah said after a bout of silence had passed.

Andy looked at her with what she hoped was a modest, please continue expression.

"You know our dad died when I was six, right?"

This was news to Andy, and judging from Sarah's next words, the surprise was written clearly on her face.

"I guess not…" She said with a small frown.

"Okay;" Sarah sighed before starting her story, "I was six. Sam was two. Our parents had been at a social function of some sort with our dad's company. I don't really know what happened. No one really told me and I was only six so…" Sarah trailed off and the look on her face made Andy half-wish that she hadn't started digging.

Sarah emptied her glass of wine and cleared her throat before she continued. "Anyway: They were on their way home, and there was an accident. Long story short, my father passed, my mother didn't."

Sarah poured herself another glass of wine, and Andy noticed that her sips were now a lot larger than they had been earlier that evening.

"She never got back to her old self after that. Sam and I spent nearly a year at our grandparents until she was fit enough to take care of us again."

"When we moved back to her, everything was different. She was so lifeless and tired all the time. I tried to cheer her up, we both did. But nothing we tried worked. She had trouble looking at us, she didn't really talk to us and she worked all the time. I guess she had to…" Sarah said staring at the deep red wine in her glass.

"Why didn't you stay with your grandparents?" Andy asked feeling a mixture between confusion at the story, guilt at having started digging it up and the ever present feeling of emptiness that had been in her chest since Best had told her about Sam.

"They were so old and frail. They couldn't handle an almost four year old and an eight year old, neither physically, financially _or_ emotionally." Sarah replied sadly.

"Anyway;" She continued, "even with two jobs, our mother couldn't manage to hold onto the house and feed and clothe us at the same time, which meant we had to move. We ended up in a cramped one bedroom apartment in one of the shabbier districts of downtown. She still had to work two jobs to make things go around. And this meant that I had to serve as the main parent for Sam."

Andy couldn't believe what she was hearing; An eight year old little girl raising a four year old virtually on her own? Why hadn't someone contacted Children's Services? Then again, if they had lived in a shabby neighborhood as Sarah had said, there probably would have been people all around them in similar situations.

"Our mother left at six am, and her back to back shifts had her out until eleven, so most of the time it was just me and him. I got him up and dressed in the morning. I made us breakfast. I brought him to kindergarten before school and picked him up after. I made him dinner and I put him to bed. She hardly ever saw him awake for years."

As Sarah looked up at her, Andy could see that her eyes were shining with tears.

Andy didn't want her to start crying. Sarah was such a strong woman. Andy knew that already from knowing what Sam had told her about the attack and seeing Sarah now. Watching her move on from the loss of her brother had only made her seem even stronger.

Andy saw her struggling to keep her eyes from overflowing while she reached for her glass and drank greedily.

"The years went by, and we were both starved for attention. We got into all sorts of trouble, but she usually just brushed it off. The only time we were really kids was at day camp in the summer. We got all the attention we could imagine then. I think those summers were the times when we were at our happiest. Then we could be kids and just play and not worry about food and if mom was going to talk to us that day or if she'd just look at us and start crying again."

Andy felt horrible. Yes, her mother had walked out on her and her father, yes, her father had been a drunk. But he had been there for her. He had let her know that he loved her, that he cared. From Sarah's words it seemed like they hadn't even had that.

"When I became a teenager I started acting out. I craved attention, and would spend time with anyone who would give it to me. I started spending time with some bad people..." Sarah stopped speaking to swallow.

"Spending time with them meant risks and I ended up in quite a few situations I wouldn't wish for anyone, let alone a thirteen year old girl. The worst time was when the guys I had been hanging out with had gotten into an argument with some other guys. They…" She inhaled shakily as she stopped speaking.

"You don't have to continue. It's okay. I didn't mean to make you re-live all of this. I was just curious. I shouldn't have asked. I'm sorry." Andy rambled in a hushed voice.

"It's okay. I just…"

"Sam." Andy started. "He told me about what happened to you. I'm so sorry."

Sarah's face turned into a mix of surprise, confusion and wonder at Andy's words, and it made Andy think that she shouldn't have said anything. That she had stepped out of line. She should have waited for Sarah to tell her on her own terms. Sam had trusted her with this information. She wasn't supposed to be blabbing it out, even if it was to the person affected.

She slumped her shoulders. She'd blown it now. She was sure of it. Sarah would leave, and that she would be alone again. She always ended…

"Wow." Sarah's voice was barely audible and her previous expression slowly gave way for one of awe and realization.

"Huh?"

"He opens up to you." Her words were a statement to herself more than anything as Sarah stared blankly ahead in thought.

"Well.." Andy started, but she didn't know what to say. She didn't understand what had just happened. What had brought out this reaction from Sarah?

"Did he do that willingly?" Sarah said with a slightly demanding tone as her eyes focused on Andy.

"I don't know…" Andy said trying to remember what Sam had said on their trip to pick up Ray Swann.

"He was fixing my leg and I told him that my dad used to take me camping in the woods when I was little. He told me about you going to day camp and then he told me about him trying to take you to the beach once. But you freaked out because you were scared. And then he told me about…" Andy trailed off, not able to complete the sentence.

"So you actually got him to open up." Sarah said deep in thought. "You sure are something special if you managed that Andy."

"I didn't really _do_ anything. He just said it."

"Hm." Sarah said bringing her glass to her mouth thoughtfully without drinking.

She just sat like that, deep in thought. Andy wondered what she was thinking about, but was afraid to ask. She took a sip from her own wine and looked around the apartment. They had moved all her stuff in during the week, and she was starting to see herself actually feeling at home there.

"She died you know."

"What?" Andy was brought out of her pleasant thoughts about the apartment by Sarah's dull statement.

"Our mother. She died." Sarah glanced up at her quickly before going back to stare at the wine.

Andy didn't know what to say. She couldn't believe what they had gone through growing up. And she could certainly not understand how on earth Sarah had managed to move on from all of the horrors of her past.

"I was 20. She was so stressed all the time, and she really had given up. I just found her one day, lying in bed. She looked peaceful for the first time in 14 years. I was doing a lot better by then. But Sam…" She stared into her glass while making the wine swirl by rotating it.

"He had been trying so hard. He spent years trying to cheer me up, taking care of me, protecting me, _and her_. I think he had to be the responsible one at the worst time..."

"Sure it's hard for a kid to take care of a four year old growing up, but him? He took care, not only of his broken down, socially anxious, agoraphobic sister, but also our mother who wasn't doing too good by then either…"

"She'd worn herself out working to make sure we had the essentials, but she couldn't even look at us anymore, she started locking herself in her room towards the end I don't remember when it started exactly, I spent some time away..."

"I guess we reminded her too much of our father and she just couldn't let go of the pain. I can't begin to imagine how it was for him living with her on his own. He was only 12 when I went away." She was talking as if she was speaking to herself, like Andy wasn't even there.

_-Where had Sarah gone to?_ Andy wondered. She figured it might be to an institution for help, but why wouldn't social services have gotten involved? Why hadn't they taken Sam out of there?

"We got good at faking." Sarah said, locking eyes with Andy for the first time in close to half an hour. "Telling people what they want to hear. What they need to hear to keep them away." She looked like she was about to say something more, but stopped herself before the words left her mouth. Andy felt like she knew what she had been about to say though:

'Why do you think he was so good undercover?'


	14. Chapter 13

**A/N: **Getting closer to the reunion! Only five more official chapters left now =O

I can't believe how amazing the reviews and other feedback have been! You are awesome!

Hope you enjoy this chapter as well!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Rookie Blue, this is purely written for my own, and hopefully other's enjoyment.

* * *

><p>CHAPTER 13<p>

Being cooped up for a week in a rat's nest with Boyd hadn't been as bad as Sam had expected. Boyd had mostly been yelling at people over the phone for the larger part of the week, as they had gotten the last details of the bust in order while Sam had watched TV, silently awaiting the moment when Boyd's loud booming voice would be aimed at him.

For some reason, the lecture Sam was so sure he would receive, never came.

"I've been talking to Best. He'll be by this afternoon. I'm thinking that since Hill is going down in…" He glanced at his watch, "Oh, about three hours, we might be able to bring you back from the dead sometime this week."

If he had been told this a week ago, his heart would have been doing somersaults.

But this wasn't a week ago. And he wasn't sure anymore if what he had thought was what needed to be done then, was really what he needed to do.

He was second guessing himself, something he rarely did.

Actually he _never_ did.

Except for when it came to _her_.

"I thought you'd jump at hearing you'll get out of here." Boyd said when Sam had stared emptily at the TV for well over a minute.

"You and me both." Sam said, still staring emptily ahead. How was he going to explain it? What was he going to say? _How_ was he going to say it?

He hated this insecure feeling. The feeling of not knowing where the boundaries are, not being sure of what to say, not knowing what was right. It made him feel vulnerable. A feeling he had rarely experienced since his childhood.

He was torn. One part wanting nothing more than take her in his arms, tell her that he loved her and never let her go, the other telling him that she wouldn't respond well at all if he did come forward and put it all out there. That she'd run away, that _he'd _run away. That it could never work out. That he'd push her away through not being able to let her in and through not letting her know how much he cared…

"So when Best comes tonight, we'll talk details of your coming to life situation…" Boyd had been talking to Best just about every day since Sam had come back to Toronto, and three days earlier, when he had been sure that the case was a done deal, he had told him that Sam was alive, and let Sam talk to him.

It had been great to hear Frank's familiar voice. But the conversation had been short and awkward. Frank had been at the office, and had to keep his mask. Sam was really looking forward to actually seeing him and talking to him in person.

He had spent hours at the cabin wondering how they'd take it, going through any scenario he could think of. None had been very pretty though. Most of them had played out with a lot of anger and sadness.

Frank's reaction on the phone had been stiff, but that would have come with him trying to keep face at work. Sam wondered what it would be to see him again. He knew they were going to discuss how to bring him back, and that it might even happen that evening.

Boyd's phone started ringing again, and he went out into the hallway to answer it. When he came back inside the apartment, he told Sam that he absolutely _had_ to meet up with the spin team, which in turn meant that Sam would have to stay inside, alone, and, as Boyd persisted, _NOT GO OUTSIDE_.

What would he do outside anyway? Sam thought as the door shut behind Boyd as he left the apartment and he heard him descend the stairs. He had nowhere to go, no one to see, nothing to do.

Though, he _did_ miss the city…

After five weeks at a fishing cabin far away followed by a week inside a dingy apartment, he'd actually love to get out on the paved streets and take in the sights and sounds of the city he knew so well.

But he couldn't. He was supposed to stay put and do nothing. He'd be back out soon enough. If the bust went well today, he'd be back and free to do whatever he wanted again in, at most, a week.

But that would still be another week in the future, and over the last month and a half he had learned that a week was a really long time when there was nothing to do.

Maybe he could just pop out for a short while, just for a quick walk around the block? No one would know. He'd be careful. He just couldn't stay seated like that anymore, staring at fluttering images of someone on the small TV. He didn't feel like himself anymore.

Had the cabin changed him?

Was he different now?

He knew that everything that happened to someone did change them in some way, but usually these changes were minimal, barely noticeable. Had he become different? Had his inability to stop thinking about his past, to stop thinking about Andy, changed him?

He just wanted to feel like himself again. To be the street savvy man, he was known to be, the street smart cop who always knew what to do in any given situation. He needed his insecurities to disappear. He needed to become his old self. He needed to get out on the streets again.

* * *

><p>It felt good to be outside in familiar surroundings. He felt at home, not like a prisoner, a feeling he had grown too familiar with during the previous month and a half. Making a left turn he continued walking down the street parallel to the one of the safe house.<p>

The sound of cars, people talking and yelling and all of the other sounds that came with the city made him relax, and he felt the tension that had constantly been present in his shoulders, for well over a month, dissipate.

He closed his eyes to fully take in the city's familiar sounds and smells. When he opened them again, they became huge.

Across the street, parked by the sidewalk was a squad car. And not just any squad car; who would be sitting inside besides the one and only Oliver Shaw?

Sam's heart doubled its rate and he felt the blood pounding in his ears. He had to get away. Quickly. Before Ollie would see him.

He continued walking in a quick pace and went into a small alley where he broke into a run, and it didn't take long until he was back inside the apartment. He didn't know if he was feeling sick because his heart was beating so fast or if it was because of having seen Ollie.

He sat down on the couch trying to still his heart rate yet still oddly rejoicing in the feeling of the adrenaline coursing through his body at the close call. He felt more alive than he had felt in a long time and like nothing could go wrong. He had gotten away without too much damage being done.

He smiled to himself as he laid down on the couch and it didn't take long before he drifted off in heavy sleep.

* * *

><p>Sam was awoken by a quick knock on the door.<p>

He groggily sat up while wiping the sleep out of his eyes before walking over and opening it.

"You look horrible." Best said, flashing his white teeth in a huge smile, a look that Sam had been seeing less and less of after he had taken on the job of sergeant.

"Yeah, well, dying has that effect on you." Sam joked as he stepped aside to let Best enter the apartment.

"Still; good to see you alive and well."

"It's going to be good to _be_ alive and well too." Sam said as he closed the door and went over to lean on the back of the couch.

Best nodded slowly as he studied Sam as if he was trying to make sure that he really was there. It made Sam squirm, and he folded his arms, which made Best look him in the eye instead.

"It hit us hard." He said silently before he turned away from Sam to look around the small apartment.

"I heard."

They both sighed and stood there in silence.

"Any thoughts on how you want to do this?" Best asked as he turned back around. His face held an expression of strictly business now.

"Not really. I don't have that much experience with dying and coming back to life." Sam joked dryly.

"I've been thinking that we'll call in Shaw, Williams and Barber for the first re-introduction. They're among the ones who took it hardest."

Sam wanted nothing more but to ask about Andy. To have someone he trusted completely tell him that she was okay, that she was happy and well, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Instead, he just nodded slowly.

Best was looking at him as if he was waiting for him to say something, but Sam kept his mouth shut and raised his eyebrows for Best to continue.

"If all goes well with the case, I think we can try to get that done tonight, then I'll notify the rest tomorrow at parade. Do you want to be there for that, or do you need some time off?"

The thoughts of happiness and worry that accompanied the thought of being reintroduced today, were quickly dismissed by thoughts of _her_. Sam would have loved nothing more than time off to find Andy and tell her what he needed to tell her, but for some reason his body refused to listen to his heart, and he instead shot Best a look saying 'what kind of stupid question is that?'

"Okay, then. I'll try to…" Best was interrupted by a quick knock on the door followed by Boyd entering the apartment.

"Good, you're here." Boyd told Best as he walked over to the two. "Bust went down without a hitch, I've gotta start the paperwork now, but had to stop by and check that you weren't up to no good." He turned to Sam as he finished his sentence.

"You planning the re-intro?" He asked turning back to Best who nodded.

"Let's hear it." Boyd said assuming a wide stance and crossing his arms copying Sam's stance.

"I'll bring in Shaw, Williams and Barber this evening, then inform the others at parade tomorrow morning." Best recapped.

"What about that overly emotional rookie? McNally, is it? Seeing how she acted at the funeral, don't you think you should spare the others from her reaction to this news? I mean, she'll probably start wailing like crazy again." Boyd said rolling his eyes, but Sam was grateful. He knew it was Boyd's way of making sure that he would get to see Andy as soon as possible.

"What do you think?" Best asked looking over at Sam.

"What? About McNally?"

"Yeah."

"Whatever you think is best is fine with me." He answered while mentally kicking himself for not just saying: 'yes, I want her to be there.' or 'I'd actually like to meet her alone first.'

"All right, I'll try to get a hold of them and bring them here. I'll prepare them on the way over."

Sam nodded in acknowledgement, as did Boyd.

"All right. I'll be seeing you again tonight then." Best said with a nod before turning to Boyd, telling him coolly: "The next time you decide to kill one of my people: You tell me first, got it? You've put my whole division through hell."

Sam fought hard not to chuckle at the surprised and slightly startled expression on Boyd's face as Best left the apartment.

Boyd left a short while later, and Sam gave him a grateful nod for bringing Andy up to Frank.

And then he was alone again.

At least it was the good quiet of the city as opposed to that of the cabin. He thought as he sat down on the couch to wait for the time to pass until he would see his friends again, until they would know that he wasn't dead after all.


	15. Chapter 14

**A/N: **Please bear with me! Reunion(s) are coming, but not just yet!

I have to say I am simply amazed by the responses you have given me to this story! Not only have you left me over 200 reviews, but in only 2 weeks, the story has had close to 5k visitors =O That is insane!

Thank you so much for reading and for all of your reviews, alerts, favorites and PMs!

I hope you continue to enjoy the story!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Rookie Blue, this is purely written for my own, and hopefully other's enjoyment.

* * *

><p>CHAPTER 14<p>

Andy had just woken up and rolled out of bed and was now padding through the living room on her way to the bathroom. She yawned as she turned the shower on and stretched before stepping into the hot stream of water.

Sarah had been back in St. Catharines for half a week now and Andy really missed having her around. Her presence had given Andy the small fix of Sam that she so sorely needed, and now that she had left, the hollow feeling inside had stopped shrinking.

There were no distractions to keep her from thinking about him either.

She had only been to the Penny twice since returning to work. For some reason she didn't associate the bar with fun and friends anymore. The two times she had been there, her eyes had continuously shifted between the bar and the entrance half expecting him just to pop up.

It was weird. She knew he was gone. She had accepted that. But for some reason, the Penny took all of that progress away and she was thrown back into denial and disbelief.

She stepped out of the shower and dried off before pulling on her clothes and going to the kitchen to grab something to eat before heading out the door to work.

She was always early these days. She was always done changing and sitting in parade before anyone else came. There was something telling her that it was where she needed to be, but she couldn't figure out the reason behind that feeling.

She grabbed her notepad from her pocket and flipped through it. She noticed that she'd be in the need of a new one soon as the pages fluttered while she turned them. Then she stopped.

She stared at the large capital letters.

A smile tugged at her lips when she remembered how he had grabbed the pad out of her hands as they were sitting in the squad car after having finished their lunch.

She had been meaning to jot down the events of the day while they were still fresh in her memory, but apparently he hadn't approved of the way she had done just that.

She had tried to get it back from him, but he had expertly blocked her every attempt, holding the pad out of her reach until she gave up. His grin had been such a proud and smug one that she had felt a slight want to slap him. She had still given in when he had demanded her pen though.

He had written quickly before shutting the pad and handing it, and the pen, back to her with a smile and a wink.

She'd frowned at him before flicking through the pages curious to find out what he had written.

_DON'T OVER THINK IT!_

She stared at the words, tracing her index finger over them. She missed him so much.

"Andy. You're early _again_?"

She turned around and flipped the notepad shut as she saw Chris walking over before he sat down next to her.

"So, how are you?"

"You know you don't have to ask me that every single day, Chris." She said matter-of-factly giving him a playful look.

"I know. So, how are you?" He said, wearing the sincere, worried puppy look only he could pull off.

"I'm…" She wondered if she should give her standard response of 'fine' or actually be honest for once. "Better."

"Good." Chris said with a small nod. "I'm glad."

"Yeah…" Andy said staring at the black notepad in her hands while wishing that Chris hadn't come.

She dismissed that wish as officers began filing into the room. Soon Best was standing in front of the white board giving them their assignments for the day.

Andy was paired with Shaw and they were supposed to patrol Regent Park. This probably meant quite a lot of possession and trafficking busts that would most likely keep them quite busy for the better part of the day, which happened to be just the thing she needed to keep her mind off _things_.

The moment Best finished, Andy left the parade room and went out to the parking lot and squad 1519 to wait for Shaw. About five minutes later he came through the doors coffee in one hand, a sandwich in the other.

"McNally." He said with a small nod, his voice muffled by the bread in his mouth. "Shall we?" He asked, awkwardly trying to hold the coffee and the sandwich in one hand so that the other one would be free to open the door.

Andy got into the passenger seat and watched with amusement as Shaw tried to get in the car while balancing the coffee and the sandwich.

When he had finally managed to get properly seated, he put the coffee on the dash board before taking another bite of his breakfast.

"Maybe I should drive, so you can eat?" Andy offered as she watched him. She was anxious to get away from the barn and get her mind focused on _something_ other than _someone_.

He frowned at her and swallowed. "And you didn't think to offer this when you saw me getting ready to get into the car?" He said shaking his sandwich at her.

"I am very disappointed in you." He added with a playful scowl. Before taking another bite of his now half eaten sandwich. "Now, get out."

* * *

><p>When Shaw was securely in place in the passenger seat, cradling his cup of coffee, Andy could finally pull out of the parking lot and head towards Regent Park.<p>

"So… Uh… How… How are you holding up? With the… You know…"

He had been trying to talk to her for weeks, she knew it. But she hadn't wanted to. She hadn't been _able_ to. Not after everything he had done for her that day 6 weeks ago. How he had been her pillar. Keeping her upright when all her body had wanted to do was collapse and crumble. She had been sure he was feeling the same way, but still he had stood tall for her, and no doubt for his good friend.

This was also why she couldn't talk to him. From what she knew and what she had seen, Oliver was the guy that Sam was the closest to out of everyone in the division. She wondered how much he knew about Sam's past, and if Sam had told him about it.

She suddenly realized that she was the one driving, and forced the thoughts out of her head to focus on the road.

"McNally?" She could hear the concern in his voice, and figured she must have spaced out for quite a while.

"What? Huh? Yeah. I'm… I'm…" The fine just wouldn't come.

"It's okay. Forget I asked." From the corner of her eye, she could see him turning away from her to look out the window.

Then he turned back. "It's just… You know… I hope you're doing better. You seem to be. Back at work and…"

"Are _you_ okay?" She asked with a quick glance over at him. "I mean. Everyone is asking if _I'm_ okay. I was only his rookie. Why are they asking _me_? _You_ were like his best friend. They should be asking _you_ how _you_ are!" She looked over at him again when she finished her rant.

He looked sad and kind of scared, but still pleasantly surprised. She found the whole look one big contradiction.

"Thanks?" He said hesitantly before turning his face towards the front and falling silent.

They remained silent until Andy pulled over to the curb close to a location where they frequently made trafficking busts.

"I'm doing good." Shaw said with a sigh. "Though I could do better…" He trailed off staring out the window.

What did he mean? Of course he could do better, everyone could. Sam had only been gone for six weeks. Of course no one would be on their 'A' game yet, at least not the ones who had been close to him.

"What do you mean?" She asked after a long internal debate, coming to the conclusion that it really wasn't a stupid question.

"What?" Shaw said as he was staring at a group of guys standing on the corner.

"You could do better? Everyone could do better. I mean, he just… It's not that long ago."

"Oh… That? I could do better…" He trailed off _again_.

If he knew how close he was to pushing her over the edge, she'd…

"…If you got me another coffee." He looked at her and smiled before waving his hand in a 'get going' manner.

"What? I won't. What?" His words had been totally unexpected and left her bewildered.

He pressed the release for her seat belt before waving his hand at her yet again.

"I'm… What? No…" She said as she opened the door and got out of the car.

"A real big one, thanks!" Shaw said as she stood there staring at him in confusion.

She stood there, one hand on the door, staring at him for a little while before she decided that she'd might as well just get it over with.

She walked over to the coffee shop on the opposite side of the road, and, once inside, she ordered the biggest size they had for Shaw and threw in a cookie for good measure. Maybe he'd be too preoccupied eating it to talk about Sam.

Oh, no.

She went there.

_Again_.

Just thinking his name turned her mind to high gear, fast forwarding through every memory she had of him. She wanted to sit down, put her head in her hands, and scream at the images to go away.

That would not be a good look for a uniformed officer in the middle of a public venue though, and so she sucked it up, letting the images fly by while feeling the hole in her heart expand.

She turned around to look back across the street at the cruiser. Shaw had moved to the driver's seat, and was still staring at the guys on the corner, probably looking for some excuse to bust them.

"Here, you go, Officer" The girl behind the counter said.

As Andy turned around to get the cup and the small paper bag, she could have sworn she saw him. She did a double take, but there was no one outside the coffee shop. She could still have sworn that she had just seen him walk past the window.

She quickly grabbed the coffee and the cookie and threw some money on the counter before hurrying out the door. Her heart was racing. She _had_ seen him, right? His dark hair, his profile, his shoulders, she had definitely seen him walk past those windows.

She stood on the sidewalk snapping her head from left to right to try to figure out where he went. But there was no one in sight. Maybe she had just imagined it. She probably had. She had to get over it, to move on, to let go.

But she couldn't.

She sighed.

"Get over it." She whispered to herself. "You're going crazy."

She sighed yet again before walking back across the street, around the cruiser, and sitting down in the passenger seat.

"Here." She said with annoyance. Not that she was annoyed with Shaw at all.

"Oooh! Cookie!" He said as he opened the paper bag. "You've really learned, McNally."

"Yeah…"

She had _seen_ Sam.

Hadn't she?

She was so sure that it had been him. But how could it be? She'd been at his funeral. She'd been told about the crime scene and autopsy photos from her friends who had seen them first hand. He was definitely dead.

So how could she have seen him? She refused to believe in ghosts, at least the kind that you could see walking around.

"Did something happen?" She was brought out of her thoughts by Shaw's cookie-muffled words.

"I… I think I saw Sam." She said frowning while staring at her knees.

She heard Shaw cough as he almost choked on his cookie.

"You saw who?" He said, still coughing.

"Sam… I think I saw him walk past the coffee shop." She said thoughtfully.

"You know he's…"

"Of course I know! Why do you think I haven't been to work for so long? Of course I know!" She didn't know why she was snapping at him. He hadn't really done anything other than be concerned about her.

Why did everyone have to be so concerned about _her_?

"But you…?"

"Yeah! I swear I saw him." She said, hearing the desperation in her own voice.

"Maybe it was just someone that looks like him."

"I guess…"

"Where was it? Over there?" He asked pointing towards the coffee shop. She nodded in response without looking up to really see where he was pointing. "_I_ didn't see him. Or anyone else."

"Well, you were busy doing your job." She said looking up at the guys on the corner.

"Speaking of…" He said taking a sip of his coffee. "…maybe we should actually do something."

* * *

><p>They had indeed done something.<p>

They had started out busting half of the guys on the corner for possession and had to bring in back up to be able to transport them all to the barn. They had then gone out again and busted another guy for distribution and possession on the same exact corner.

Then there had been a noise complaint.

When they had reached the apartment in question it had been silent, but the moment they knocked on the door, they'd heard screams, and as they burst through the door, they were met by a young guy pointing a gun at a woman holding a small baby. With a lot of effort they finally managed to talk him into putting down the gun before escorting him to the precinct.

When they'd hit the streets again they got a call about an elderly woman reporting a robbery. They went to her house, and after almost an hour of questioning, she found the jewelry she had reported stolen in her jewelry box.

By the time shift ended and they were back at the barn getting changed, Andy was exhausted and couldn't wait to come home to her bed and sleep.

She was out of the barn in no time at all and soon she was at the house, padding through the living room in a sleepy daze headed for the bedroom.

Once inside she collapsed onto the bed and drifted into a heavy sleep.

She neither heard nor felt her phone ringing, not once, not twice, but five times.


	16. Chapter 15

**A/N:** Not a lot of chapters left now =O Your responses have been incredible, and I do hope you like this and the remaining chapters as much as you have liked the rest of the story!

Time for Sam to meet some people!

Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Rookie Blue, this is purely written for my own, and other's enjoyment.

* * *

><p>CHAPTER 15<p>

He woke up to the sound of his phone vibrating, and realized that he had fallen asleep on the couch.

_Again._

He cursed the cabin for having made him bring the old memories to the surface. For being unfamiliar, for making him feel unsafe, which, he realized, in turn had made him seek refuge in the one place that was similar to what had truly been his as he was growing up; the beat up sofa in the old apartment.

He grabbed his phone and hit the answer button as he brought it to his ear.

There were several voices talking loudly in the background, saying his name and asking questions.

"We're on our way." Best's voice rang clearly through the line. "We'll see you in fifteen." The voices in the background grew louder. He heard Oliver demanding to be handed the phone, a statement which was met by protest by the others.

"See you soon." Best said as he hung up.

And soon it was.

Sam had just barely managed to wake up fully before he heard them in the hallway and a quick knock on the door.

Before he even had a chance to open it, the door burst open and a half-panicked looking Ollie came through first, his eyes taking in the entire room before stopping at Sam.

His expression relaxed a little and his eyes began welling up before he lifted his arms and quickly closed the distance between them pulling Sam into the tightest hug Sam had ever experienced.

"Hey, stop hogging him, let us have a turn too." Jerry said jokingly, smiling as he came over to hug Sam as well. He almost had to pry Ollie's arms off of Sam in order to do so.

"It's really good to have you back." He told Sam as he hugged him before he stepped back to make room for Noelle.

She looked at him with shiny eyes, something he wasn't used to seeing on her, and it made him feel horrible for what he had put them through.

Sam tried to smile at her, but his face wouldn't obey the way it was supposed to.

"Still trying to work those dimples on me, huh? You should have figured out by now that they don't work." She said in a serious tone.

"I've missed seeing them though." She said as she put her arms around his neck and pulled him into a hug.

They three of them stood there with teary eyes just staring at him the same way Best had done earlier that day.

It felt good to see them again, but the apparent sadness in their eyes was hard for him to take. To know that he was the reason for these feelings, that he affected them in such a way that…

But someone was missing.

Hadn't Best said he'd bring Andy as well?

"Where's McNally?" Sam demanded turning towards Frank.

"She went home before we could get hold of her, Sammy." Oliver said looking at him apologetically. "We had a long day, and she thought she saw your ghost on the street and it really shook her up."

"She was there with you?"

"You _were_ there?" Both Oliver and Best said in unison.

"Where is she now? Sam continued, ignoring their question. "Is she okay? I have to go see her." He turned on his heel and started walking towards the door.

Jerry stepped in between him and the door, effectively stopping him from leaving. "I don't think that's the best idea, do you?"

He knew Jerry was right, but he still had to see her. If she was hurting, he had to make her feel better, he just _had_ to. "I need to see her." He said staring threateningly into Jerry's eyes to try to get him to step out of the way.

"We'll call her, how does that sound? Your sister is on her way, maybe you should wait and see her first?" Best said calmly as he walked over to stand beside Jerry in front of the door.

Why were they trying to keep him away from her? He just wanted to see her, to make sure she was okay, to let her know that _he_ was okay. What bad could that do?

But if Sarah was on her way from St. Catharines, maybe he should wait. She deserved that after the emotional turmoil he had most likely put her through.

He sighed loudly and rolled his eyes while turning around and walking over to the couch where he slumped down.

The room went silent.

"Didn't you say you were going to call her?" Sam asked Best when no one had said anything for a couple of minutes. He knew he was sounding harsh, but not seeing Andy there had left him filled with disappointment. He had really been looking forward to seeing her face, looking into her eyes, hearing her voice, her laugh, just to know that she was okay.

"Doing it now." Best said pulling his phone out of his pocket and dialing.

The room went silent again, save from the sounds of traffic from outside.

Sam sighed heavily.

Why had he left the apartment? Why did she have to have seen him there? Was she okay? He needed to know what had happened while he was gone. What she had done, how she had acted.

"She'll be okay, Sammy. I'm sure she'll be as thrilled as we are that you're back." Jerry said as he sat down next to Sam.

Sam didn't say anything. He wanted to ask what had happened while he was gone, but for some reason he couldn't bring himself to do it. There was no apparent reason why he shouldn't be able to ask any of the four people in the room about this, they were the people he spent most of his time with after all, they had known him for years. If Boyd knew how he felt about her, they would undoubtedly know as well.

Then why couldn't he just ask them?

"She's not answering." Best said while putting the phone back in his pocket.

"Then call her again." Sam said with an annoyed sigh, not directed at Best, but at himself for not being able to ask the questions he so desperately needed answers to.

"I already tried two times as we rode over here, and three times now. I'll try again in a little while."

Another heavy sigh escaped Sam's lungs. He was growing increasingly annoyed with himself for not being able to put her aside and focus on his friends who had actually come there just to see him again and assure themselves that he was alive and well.

"You'll see her soon enough." Oliver said reassuringly as he sat down next to Sam on the couch.

Sam could see the reflection of Noelle and Frank talking in the TV, and was for a moment distracted from his thoughts of Andy by trying to figure out what had happened between the two of them while he had been gone. They had always had a good friendship, but there was something different about the way they were talking to each other now.

He could hear Oliver's voice yakking away about one of his daughters on his left, and to his right Jerry was busy texting someone, undoubtedly Nash, on his cell phone. It made him feel like things were like before, like he had never gone away; that he was back where he belonged.

* * *

><p>"Tell me again how they set up the dying. How did they get the crime scene photos? And the autopsy ones? And the report? It all looked so genuine."<p>

Sam was about to start telling Jerry for the third time how it had all went down when he 'died', but was interrupted by a knock on the door.

He turned around to see Best opening the door followed by a woosh of black hair as Sarah zoomed by him towards the couch and Sam.

He got to his feet as she came around it, and was almost knocked off them when she threw her arms around his neck.

The hug was short and tight and ended with her pushing him back down on the couch, putting her hands on her hips and staring at him angrily.

He felt like he was eight again and had done something he wasn't allowed to do.

"Do you have any idea what you've put us through?"

The tone in her voice made him sink in his seat. And out of the corner of his eyes he could see both Jerry and Ollie gaping on either side of him.

"We thought you were gone! I've removed you from every registry there is for crying out loud! That took a LOT of time, and now you're back!"

"It's not like I didn't want to…"

"No!" She interrupted his excuses.

"How could you put her through that!" She said accusingly.

Her? Who was she talking about?

"She has been so broken, and _now_ you come back! When she's finally come to terms with it and is starting to move on, that is when you come back?"

"You would all have been ki…"

"I know." She interrupted him again, sighing, and her eyes became softer. "You have no idea how happy I am to have you back, but…" She looked away. "You didn't see her."

"Who are you…?"

"Andy."

Her statement made all other sounds disappear.

How did Sarah know about Andy?

Why would Andy have been vulnerable around her?

What _had_ happened while he was gone?

And most importantly: How was Andy doing?

The questions spinning in his head blocked everything else out, and he didn't notice the shifting in the couch as both Ollie and Jerry got up and went into the other room with Best and Noelle.

He was brought out of his mind by Sarah's hand stroking his back like she had used to do when he had trouble sleeping as a child.

She was sitting next to him now, smiling at him sadly.

"I know you care about her." She said. "But just know that you have pretty much put her through hell."

What was this? How did Sarah have insight into his feelings about Andy? He'd never even mentioned her by name other than McNally.

"How are the boys?" He asked in an attempt to change the subject.

"They are doing okay. They don't know yet, but I'll tell them as soon as I get back home. Speaking of; you have to come visit us soon, it's been way too long, and after making us pack up your entire apartment and making us believe you were dead, I really think we deserve a longer visit than a weekend." She said, her voice serious, but her eyes were twinkling jokingly.

He couldn't help but smile.

"She helped us do it."

He knew she was back at talking about Andy.

"We were in the middle of packing up the place, and there she stood, in the middle of the street, just staring at us. It was odd, but I _had _seen her at the funeral, so I figured she knew you, you know? And so I went up to her, we got to talking, and I figured out that she was the McNally you always go on about."

He looked at her with an offended, I-so-do-not expression, and received a oh-you-know-you-do one in return.

"Well, she helped me pack up your stuff and she told me about how you first met. And I think talking about you made her feel a bit better. She stayed quiet for a while when she remembered that Jerry was the one who really blew your cover."

Had she been blaming herself for him getting made back then?

Well, he _had_ pretty much told her it was all her fault even though he knew it was Jerry's. It was just so much easier to blame the doe-eyed rookie he didn't know, than his friend and poker buddy for years.

But if she blamed herself for him getting made…

No…

She couldn't have…

She wouldn't have blamed herself for his death would she?

He was once again brought out of his mind by his sister's words.

"We spent nearly every day together until I had to leave and go back home. She was really doing better by then, getting out of that no good relationship, moving out… We talk on the phone at least once a week… I really get what you see in her, she's so resourceful, so brave, so…"

Sarah's list of Andy's good qualities were drowned out by the happiest thought he had had in a long time: Andy was no longer with Callaghan!

Why had no one told him this?

Didn't they know?

They had to know.

It was good to hear that she was doing better, and he quite enjoyed the thought of his sister being good friends with the girl he knew was the only one he had ever felt, and would ever feel this way about.

"She was hesitant at first, but I managed to get her to do it. I mean, your place was already paid for for months and it's not like you were going to use it anyway."

"She's staying at my place?" His own voice startled him a little as he spoke.

"Well, that's what I just said."

"I have to go there." He said getting to his feet.

"I don't know if you should."

He turned towards her. "I _have_ to."

"It won't go the way you want it to." She said knowingly.

He disregarded it. What would she know about that? She didn't even know how he wanted it to go.

He just knew that he needed to see her and let her know that he was here. He started walking towards the door.

"I know what you think you need to do, but right now is not the time, Sammy." She told him as she followed him out the door.

He just kept walking, and had gotten to the street before he remembered that he didn't have a car.

He heard steps behind him, and turned around to see Sarah coming out of the building, waving a pair of car keys in his face.

"Thanks." He said, trying to grab them from her, but she pulled her hand back.

"Nuh-uh. I'm driving." She said as she turned off the car alarm and got into the driver's seat.

When he was securely in place in the passenger's seat, she turned to him. "Don't say I didn't warn you about doing this." She said before starting the car and pulling out onto the street.


	17. Chapter 16

**A/N: **And so it starts! I hope you won't be disappointed!

I know I've said this tons of times already: But I really can't believe the responses you have been giving me to this story! The amounts of visitors, reviews, favorites and alerts are off the charts!

THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH!

I hope you'll enjoy this chapter as well!**  
><strong>

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Rookie Blue, this is purely written for my own, and other's enjoyment.

* * *

><p>CHAPTER 16<p>

He was ready to jump out of the car while it was still moving as they pulled onto the street where he used to live.

"You're staying in the car until I talk to her and let her know, okay?"

He wanted to tell her no. He wanted nothing more than to storm into the house, check that every inch of her was in one piece, to tell her how much he cared and how much he had missed her while being cooped up in the cabin.

He sighed in agreement as Sarah pulled up to the curb, and got out.

"Remember: Stay put until I _tell_ you to come, okay?"

He just raised his eyebrows in a you-told-me-this-already manner. It seemed to satisfy her as she turned her back to him and went up the stairs.

He watched her knock, wait, and, when there was no sign of movement inside, get a key out of her pocket and unlock the door before she disappeared inside.

He leaned back in his seat and stared down the familiar street while his mind went through a million scenarios of what it would be like to see Andy. again.

* * *

><p>She was awoken by the sound of a door closing, and sat up in bed in confusion.<p>

Had she forgotten to lock her door when she came home? She _had_ been in a sleepy daze…

No.

She most certainly _had_ locked the door. But the only person with a key was Sarah, and she was in St. Catharines. Who on earth could have entered her house at this time of night?

She got out of bed and slowly opened the door to her bedroom, and peeked around it into the hallway. It was dark, and she couldn't see anyone.

Her heart was beating quickly, and she regretted not having brought her gun home, as she stood there listening intently for sounds of other people.

"I'm a police officer! Who's there?" She said loudly as she edged her way down the hallway towards the living room and the front door.

"It's me!" Her heart slowed at the sound of Sarah's voice.

But what was she doing there?

The living room lights came on as she entered it and she saw Sarah over by the light switch taking off her coat.

"What are you doing here?" Andy asked, smiling, as she sat down on the couch. "More unfinished business?" She questioned further while pulling a blanket around herself.

"That's one way of putting it." Sarah said as she sat down in a chair across from Andy.

Andy was having trouble reading her expression. She looked happy and sad at the same time as well as hesitant. There was definitely something wrong.

"Has something happened? To Jeff? The boys?"

Sarah shook her head.

"Then, what's wrong?"

"I have some news for you."

Andy looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to continue.

"You know that case Sam was working undercover on when you busted him and Jerry burnt him?"

Andy nodded slowly. What was she getting at? What had happened?

"That case is closed now."

"Well… That's good isn't it. They got Hill locked away." _–Sam didn't die for nothing._

But why did Sarah know this?

"Yes, but in order to close it, they had to do something. They had to resort to quite drastic measures; Sam had to pretend to die."

_-Sam had to pretend to die._

The words kept ringing in her head, but their meaning wouldn't register. He _was_ dead, there had been an investigation, crime scene photos, autopsy reports, a funeral.

"Do you understand what I am saying?"

Andy just shook her head slowly. What did this mean? Was he alive? He couldn't be.

"Sam isn't dead, Andy."

It had to be a dream. No way would Sarah show up in Toronto at this time of night, no way would Sam's death all have been a show put on to put Hill away. There was absolutely no way this could be real.

"He's sitting outside in the car."

Andy wished she could just wake up. She couldn't handle this. Her throat was closing, and she was starting to feel faint.

Then she heard the door open.

The feeling of nausea was growing in her stomach and working its way up to her throat. She closed her eyes willing herself to wake up.

Then she heard footsteps starting at the front door, getting ever closer.

–_Wake up, wake up, wake up!_ She screamed internally, but it didn't happen. And when she opened her eyes again, he was there, staring at her with his deep brown eyes.

* * *

><p>His head whipped towards the house when the lights went on in the living room. He saw the shadows of two people on the curtains, and his heart started pounding as he thought about seeing her again.<p>

He opened the door, and was half-way out when he remembered that he had promised Sarah to stay put until she told him he could come.

He groaned, closed the door again and just sat there staring up at the living room window. The shadows were no longer visible, so he figured they were sitting down.

He wondered how Andy was reacting to the news of him being alive. Was she happy, sad, in disbelief? All he wanted to do was to show her he was there and tell her that he'd never leave her again. That he'd stay by her side forever and that nothing and no one would ever be able to make him leave.

He opened the door again and stepped out into the cold air.

He took a deep breath before hurrying up the stairs, stopping hesitantly with his hand on the door handle.

Drawing another breath of cold air, he opened the door and stepped into the familiar hallway.

The living room was quiet.

He slowly made his way around the corner and entered the living room to see Sarah's stern eyes, with an expression telling him he had come _way_ too soon.

Disregarding his sister, he turned to look at Andy who was looking pale as she sat curled up under a blanket with her eyes closed.

His whole body was telling him to get close to her. To see that she was in one piece, to make sure she was okay, but something told him that this was not the way to go.

Her eyes slowly fluttered open.

They held confusion, wonder and disbelief as she looked at him.

Then they became shiny, and as she blinked, tears started rolling down her cheeks.

He wanted to go over to her and dry them away, to hold her close as she cried. But yet again something told him that this was not the way to go.

She opened her eyes to look at him one more time before she got up from the couch and slowly made her way towards the bedroom.

He felt like he needed to say something, that he had to do something to keep her from leaving, but nothing felt right. He just felt abandoned, like he had been so many times before whenever he had tried reaching out to his mother.

As he heard the bedroom door shut, he looked over at Sarah, who was still sitting in the chair. She was slowly shaking her head with an I-told-you-to-wait expression on her face.

He felt broken, like something had gone terribly wrong and that it had made him lose a piece of himself in the process.

He needed to get away.

He once again looked to his sister.

She nodded, and held out the car keys.

He took them from her hand and was about to leave the room, when her hand wrapped around his wrist.

He turned back to look at her, and their eyes connected.

Hers were filled with sadness and apologies.

Then she lifted her brows in silent questioning and he gave her a small nod telling her that he was okay, before she let go of his wrist and he left.

* * *

><p>It felt good to drive again, and he kept driving around for a while as he tried to distance his thoughts of Andy from the thoughts of his mother. The situations were in no way similar, yet his mind had decided to push them all into the same compartment, meaning that thoughts of Andy, automatically turned into thoughts of his childhood and his mother's many rejections, in turn making him feel useless and in the way.<p>

It wasn't supposed to have gone that way. This was supposed to have been a happy reunion. She was supposed to be excited that he was back, not start crying and leaving him standing there. Why did things between them have to be so difficult?

He couldn't give up. She was the _one._ He had realized that a long time ago. This was what he wanted. What he needed. What he was supposed to have.

He had to tell her how he felt.

But how?

It didn't even seem like she even believed he was alive.

Anger at Anton Hill was starting to bubble inside him for being the source of this overly complicated situation, and at Boyd for setting up the scenario. Who knows what would have happened if he hadn't had to 'die'?

_Why_ had he agreed to go along with it?

He slammed his fists into the steering wheel making the horn go off.

He had to go back, to make it right, to convince her that he wasn't going to disappear on her again.

He made an illegal u-turn and headed back towards the house.

* * *

><p>She was too exhausted to even attempt to stop the tears.<p>

Her pillowcase was soaked but she didn't even have energy to move her head to a dry spot.

The bedroom door opened, and she saw Sarah coming inside and sitting down on the bed, starting to slowly run her hand up and down Andy's back in a comforting manner, and it _did_ help still the tears a little.

"I know it's not a dream." Andy said in a barely audible whisper. "I know I should be happy, but I just feel scared." She continued in the same low voice. "I don't think I could handle having to go through it all again."

Silence filled the room as Sarah just sat there running her hand soothingly up and down Andy's back.

"I used to do this when he had nightmares. Always made him fall asleep…" Sarah said in a soothing voice.. "I can hardly believe he's back…"

"I can't lose him again." Andy whispered into her pillow.

"I think he's thinking that exact same thing."

Andy turned her head to look at Sarah. She looked dead serious. They locked eyes for a little while before Andy turned her head back to the pillow.

"Where is he now anyway?" She asked, her words muffled by the pillow.

"I don't know. He needed to think."

"Where _was_ he? When he was…" It was still too painful to think of him as gone, and she couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence.

"I don't know. The moment I mentioned you he wanted to come here and see how you were. You should ask him when he comes back."

"You think he'll be back?" Andy once more turned her head to look at Sarah.

"I'm sure of it." She said with a small, knowing smile.

* * *

><p>He had parked in the street right in front of the house, and had now been sitting there for at least ten minutes still trying to separate the images of Andy walking away from the images of his mother doing the same.<p>

It was easier in theory.

Fed up with trying to do what was seemingly impossible, he stepped out of the car and slowly ascended the stairs. He had no idea what he would see when he came inside, no idea what he'd say or do, but somehow he just knew that he had to come back.

He opened the door slowly and took his time taking his shoes off in the hall before he entered the living room.

It was empty.

He figured they probably were in the bedroom, and sat down on the couch.

Sarah came out not long after.

"I thought I heard something..." She said with a small smile.

Sam gave a small nod before asking how Andy was doing.

"She's better. She has calmed down, and is maybe on her way to taking it in." Sarah said as she sat down in the chair she had been sitting in before he had screwed everything up by coming in too soon.

Sam sighed, and rubbed his face with his hands.

"What's going on up there?"

He couldn't tell her. She had had enough trouble these past months not to mention her entire life. She didn't need to be bothered with the troubles of his mind.

"You know it does no one any good to keep it all inside?" She said with a hint of annoyance when he didn't speak.

"It's nothing." He said looking up at her. "Just leave it." Did his voice actually sound like he was begging? Why was he failing so miserably at everything?

He hadn't been able to do his job and stay put at the cabin.

He hadn't been able to do his job and stay put in the apartment.

He hadn't been a good friend when he had gotten to see them again, being too preoccupied thinking about Andy.

He hadn't been a good brother, even though she hadn't left him a lot of room to speak.

He hadn't managed to stay put in the car until it was time for him to meet Andy again.

He hadn't managed to tell her what he had intended to, and now he was failing at keeping up his mask.

He hated feeling like a failure.

"Hey."

Her voice was low and raspy, and when he looked up at her, he noticed that her eyes were blood shot and her face streaked with tears.

"Uh… Hey." He said, knowing that he had the most dumb-looking, mouth half-open, expression on his face, but he was unable to make it go away.

How could someone so sad, look so beautiful?


	18. Chapter 17

**A/N: **Only one more official chapter after this! I can't believe that the story is almost fully posted =O

I might have a small surprise for you at the end though ;)

I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as you have enjoyed the others!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Rookie Blue, this is purely written for my own, and other's enjoyment.

* * *

><p>CHAPTER 17<p>

They had been sitting there for at least 15 minutes in complete silence, Sam on the couch, Sarah in the chair and Andy on the edge of the coffee table.

Andy was looking at her hands, Sam was looking at Andy, and Sarah was looking from one to the other in regular intervals.

He wanted to say something, but didn't know where to begin. Not one sentence that popped into his mind felt like the right thing to say.

Then Andy stood up.

His heart rate increased as he feared that she would leave yet again.

She stood still for a long time before she spoke.

"Do you guys want anything?" She asked while turning around to face them. "A henway maybe?"

Sam was taken completely off guard. And if he hadn't been unable to speak before, he was definitely speechless now. Had she really said what he had heard her say? He looked at her to see if he could see any sign of humor.

She stood there, completely serious, save for the tiniest twitch of her lips. He looked over at his sister who just sat there in wonder.

"What's a henway?" She asked, baffled.

A quick glance from Andy told Sam that that was his cue.

"Oh, about three pounds." He told her before looking back at Andy, who was unable to contain the smile spreading on her face.

Sam was the first to start laughing, followed by Andy, and then Sarah when she finally put the pieces together.

"You never were very good at getting jokes." Sam teased her in between chuckles. This just earned him a scowl, before Sarah again broke out in laughter.

He couldn't help staring at Andy.

If he had thought she had looked beautiful before, she was absolutely stunning now. Her big bright smile, that laugh, and the amused glint in her eyes as she looked over at him.

There was absolutely no way he would ever leave her again.

He didn't care that they weren't alone. He didn't care that they hadn't talked. He didn't care about his inhibitions.

"I love you."

* * *

><p>The laughter stopped abruptly.<p>

What did he say?

He didn't say what she thought he said, did he?

Andy couldn't look away from his gaze. The deep, dark pools were sucking her in making all else melt away. There were no more sounds, no other people, no more house. It was just the two of them surrounded by nothing.

"I'm just going to go in the other room and make a phone call."

Sarah's words pulled Andy out of the trance-like state she had been in, making her feel a little woozy. She swayed a bit, but in no time, a set of strong arms surrounded her and brought her over to the couch.

"Are you okay?" He asked, his expression filled with worry.

"I'm fine." She said automatically like she had gotten used to over the last couple of months.

"I don't mean just now."

His gaze was so intense that she had to look away. "It's been really hard…" She trailed off with a whisper.

"I'm so sorry. If I had known.."

"You did your job. It was the only way." She said, knowing she wasn't sounding very convincing. But it was the truth. It was what had to be done, she understood that. It still didn't make it hurt any less or make the fear of it happening for real the next time go away.

"I…"

"Where did you stay?"

Why did she keep interrupting him? Was she afraid of what he'd say? Afraid that he'd say it again?

He frowned for a second before answering. "At a fishing cabin somewhere far away. If he had come to me again I wouldn…"

"Were you alone the entire time?"

She heard him sigh at the interruption, but for some reason she was deathly afraid of whatever it was he was trying to say.

"Until about a week ago, yes. I need you to know that.."

"That must have been nice for you, huh? All alone at a cabin, all the silence you could want right?"

She could almost hear his jaw muscles tighten with irritation at being interrupted again.

"You'd think so… But no."

He fell silent. Maybe he had given up on trying to say whatever it was that scared her so much.

"What happened a week ago?" She asked after a while, breaking the silence.

"I came back to the city." He wasn't looking at her anymore. He got to his feet from his kneeling position in front of the couch, and walked over to sit in the chair.

"You've been here for a _week_? Why didn't they tell us earlier then?" Her mind was spinning now. How could they have kept such vital information away from her for a week?

"I wasn't supposed to come back. I wasn't thinking…" He trailed off, looking down at the floor. Then his eyes shot up to stare into hers. "Besides, no one other than Boyd knew."

"Oh." She said, averting her eyes and falling silent. So no one but Boyd had known about him being alive? There must have been other people in on it, then again they would probably all be GnG guys anyway…

But if Sam had been in Toronto for a week, then today…

She looked up at him again. "It _was_ you that I saw today."

He sighed. "Yet another thing I wasn't supposed to do."

* * *

><p>Sarah couldn't believe her own ears as she stood there listening to the conversation between Andy and her brother.<p>

Her phone call with Jeff had been over for several minutes already. She had just wanted to hear that the boys had gone to bed okay, and tell him that she loved him and would tell him everything in the morning.

She had been on her way back into the living room when she'd heard them talking, and she couldn't bring herself to interrupt them.

Never, in Sam's whole life, had she heard him speak so unshielded about anything. He was giving her straight answers to everything she asked, with hardly any hesitation.

But why did Andy keep interrupting him?

She was probably afraid.

When you're used to distancing yourself from people, the most difficult thing to hear are the words that are supposed to bring people together. They make you feel uncomfortable, inadequate and like there is something wrong with you because you can't bring yourself to say the same thing. You can't let yourself believe that they mean what they say.

Sarah knew that all too well. And she had only been lucky that Jeff had been such a patient and persistent man.

She knew that the issues between her brother and Andy would not be worked out in an evening, and because she didn't want to interrupt what little progress was being made, and since she was already in the guest bedroom, she figured that she might as well just try to get some sleep.

* * *

><p>"So what did you do at that cabin?" Andy asked breaking the silence between them as she had done so many times before.<p>

He loved her inability to stand long silences, he loved everything about her: Even her annoying interruptions.

"I've cleaned, sewn, learned how to make a fire…" He stole a quick glance to see if she would show the slightest hint of being impressed by this, and there was a glint of something in her eye for a short second, making him feel a little bit better about the situation.

"been bored out of my mind, missed you…" He stole another quick glance and saw the slightest furrow between her eyes.

"fixed a sink and a shower, and I think that's it." He said trying to come up with what more he had done besides thinking about his childhood way more than he would have liked.

"You can sew?" She asked with a look of surprise.

"Well, yeah." He shrugged.

"Hm.."

"What? Are you surprised?" He asked as she started playing with a throw pillow. "I can cook too, you know."

"Yeah, I bet you're a real master chef." She snorted.

"What? Is that a challenge?" He said with raised brows, ready to get up and prove her wrong.

"Well, if you're offering." She teased, before letting out a huge yawn.

He chuckled slightly. "I guess it'll have to wait until another day." He said walking over to offer her a hand getting off the couch.

She stared at it for a while before hesitantly putting her hand in his and letting him help her up.

Her hand was warm in his, and it made his palm feel like it was on fire. She got to her feet, but didn't let go. She looked down, and he followed her gaze to their joined hands.

"I uh… I guess I'll see you tomorrow or something…" He said, not moving his eyes away from their hands.

"Where are you going to stay?" She asked, her eyes also glued to their hands.

"I'll find somewhere…"

Silence fell over them, and they just stood there, neither of them moving a muscle, just feeling the heat of each other's palms pressed together.

"Where's Sarah?" Andy suddenly said, and withdrew her hand.

Sam looked around in search of his sister, who, he was ashamed to admit, he had completely forgotten about. "I don't know." He said as Andy started walking down the hall towards the bedrooms.

He followed her to the door of the guest bedroom, and they both stuck their heads in to see Sarah, sound asleep on the bed.

"I guess she's staying here for the night then." Sam whispered. "I'll borrow her car."

"You shouldn't have to leave. It's _your_ house." Andy whispered as she closed the door to the guest bedroom. "And it's so cold outside. And do you even have a jacket?"

"Well, no." He said in reply to her question. "I kind of left in a hurry."

"It's settled then. You take the bed, I sleep in there." She said pointing to the living room.

"No. If anyone is sleeping on the couch, it's me." Sam said hurriedly.

When his words registered in his mind, they made him chuckle. He had been sleeping mostly on couches for nearly two months now, if he was to try sleeping in a bed, he probably wouldn't have been able to fall asleep anyway.

* * *

><p>She woke up feeling more tired than she had felt in a long time, and that was saying something as the last two months definitely had <em>not<em> been a walk in the park.

She laid still in bed for a while thinking about yesterday's events, and it made her feel like she was trying to recollect a distant dream. The only thing she was sure about was that Sam was back, that he wasn't dead, and that she was tremendously afraid of losing him again, almost to the point that she'd rather not have him in her life to shield herself from the pain.

Another part of her just wanted to skip straight to the good stuff and leave everything difficult between them in the past, to start over and have things be easy and straight forward.

The trouble was that she couldn't disregard their past nor the pain she had felt when she thought he was gone forever, a pain she never wanted to feel again, but one she most likely would encounter down the road.

The scent of scrambled eggs and bacon was a welcome distraction from her heavy thoughts, and her growling stomach prodded her to get out of bed and go towards the kitchen.

She was expecting to see Sarah cooking her breakfast, as she had done every day when they had stayed in the house together, but as she came out of the bedroom, Sarah popped her head out from behind the guest room door.

Andy frowned at her and received a big smile in return.

"His eggs are _so_ good." Sarah whispered excitedly as she walked past Andy down the hall, and disappeared around the corner.

Andy followed slowly behind, and came into the kitchen to see Sarah stealing some of the bacon, and Sam scowling at her before they both broke into almost identical dimpled smiles.

"Sit down, it's almost done." Sarah said, when she saw Andy in the kitchen entrance.

Sam turned away from his cooking to look at her.

She hadn't noticed how rough he had looked yesterday. The stubbled face, the dark circles under his eyes, his hair sticking out in every direction. It made her wonder what had happened at that cabin. It didn't really look like he had been just the maintenance man he had painted a picture of the night before.

He smiled quickly before turning his attention back to his cooking.

Andy sat down at the small table, and was soon joined by both Sarah and Sam.

"Sarah was right. Your eggs _are_ excellent!" Andy said as she swallowed the first bite.

"Thanks." He said, awkwardly picking at his own food.

"I completely take back my disbelief in your cooking skills." She said taking another bite.

"Just wait until he makes you steak." Sarah said off-handedly, making both of them whip their heads around to look at her.

She just kept eating as if she hadn't said anything at all.

When they turned back to their food, their eyes met awkwardly for a quick second before they both busied themselves eating instead.

* * *

><p>Sarah excused herself to make a phone call when the three of them had been sitting in silence for a long time, and she left the room, leaving the two of them alone, sitting on opposite sides of the table.<p>

He had laid awake most of the night trying to figure out a way to tell her what he wanted that wouldn't make her interrupt him.

"How has work been?" He asked casually, taking a bite of his now cold eggs even though he didn't feel like eating.

"I've barely been back for two weeks, but it's okay." She said casually. Then she seemed to realize what she had indeed said as she sank in her seat and started pushing the leftovers of the eggs around on her plate.

He knew from Boyd that she had been away for a month after he went away, and he was curious as to what exactly it was that had made her unable to return to work, but from her reaction to just telling him that she had had time off, he figured it best to leave those questions until another day.

"I can't wait to get back out on the streets again." He said still keeping it casual.

"I thought you were just biding your time until there would be an opening in GnG?" She said looking at him questioningly for a brief second before continuing pushing egg pieces around with her fork.

"Well, things change." He said looking at her intently, hoping that she'd look in his eyes and understand what he really meant.

When their eyes locked together he knew that she understood.

"I'm not going anywhere." He said in a whisper.

Her eyes turned shiny. "You can't promise that." She said silently before looking away.

"True. But I _can_ promise that if it is in any way in my power to decide…"

She looked at him again.

"I won't."


	19. Chapter 18

**A/N:** And so, the story comes to an end. Last official chapter!

I was seriously not expecting this story to be as popular as it has turned out to be. I actually was worried that it was too dark, angsty and depressing and that people wouldn't want to read it.

Boy, was I wrong!

I cannot express my gratitude enough to every one of you who have read, reviewed, alerted and favorited! Thank you all for proving me wrong, and removing my worries!

Once again I need to thank Jimi18 for suggesting the idea of Sam having to die in order to bust Hill. Without her, the story would never have been written!

Also: Huge THANKS to DCJ for reading the story over and over and discussing it with me in order to make it the best it can be, and for helping me when I was stuck (which happened a lot of times with this story)

As I have said, I always write the entire story before posting, but, because I felt so bad for making so many people cry, I actually added another chapter: An epilogue that I hope will make up for a bit of the angsty darkness that has been this story. I will post it tomorrow!

But now, without further ado: Please enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Rookie Blue, this is purely written for my own, and other's enjoyment.

* * *

><p>CHAPTER 18<p>

After his breakfast with Andy and Sarah, Sam had left to talk to Best and to say 'surprise! I'm not dead after all' to the rest of the division. After doing so he had received hugs and back pats from every single cop on duty that day, and for some reason Epstein had been particularly clingy.

When he had finally managed to escape the parade room, he had met up with Boyd, who had informed him that Sarah had given him a big run for his money when she had begun trying to remove Sam from all the registries and cancel all of his accounts. But that, through a lot of effort, Boyd had managed to convince them to keep everything open while still making it seem to the outside world that he no longer existed and that all accounts were closed. Sam was incredibly glad that this had been done, but was even more glad that it hadn't been his job.

Afterwards, he had gone into the locker rooms to take a good long shower. He was happy to find his locker just the way he had left it, and was thankful that they were slow at cleaning out lockers at 15.

When he had started putting his spare clothes on he had been surprised to find that the t-shirt was way too small, and its scent revealed that it wasn't his, but Andy's. He started wondering how it had gotten in there and where _his_ t-shirt had disappeared to. But that thought disappeared from his mind when he found that one of the name tags from his uniform was missing as well.

He brought his dirty clothes and the t-shirt back with him to what had previously been his house, but was now Andy's.

He frowned at how easily that thought popped into his head.

He had understood, by Boyd's story, that Sarah had gotten most of the affairs in order pretty quickly, and figured that she had found out about the pre-paid lease in the process. He wouldn't normally have done such a thing, but before he had been so rudely awakened in the night to be 'killed' and shipped to the cabin, he had come to the conclusion that he just couldn't leave her. Even if she was with someone else, it didn't matter.

The thought of planning to stay in one place for at least six months in the future would have freaked him out before, but after she came along, there had been no doubt in his mind that he had to stay at 15, if not to be with her, then only to keep her safe.

He assumed that Sarah had offered the place to Andy after the split with Callaghan, and he was glad that she had done so. The only problem was that he now had no place to stay.

As he headed back in Sarah's car, he figured that he might as well wash his clothes there as he looked for a hotel to stay in until he could find a new place.

* * *

><p>When he entered the house, Andy was sitting in the living room talking with Sarah. They both fell silent when he entered, and he got the feeling that they were up to something.<p>

"I thought you might want this back." He said as he handed her her t-shirt.

Her face held a mixture of sadness and a slight blush as she accepted it and put it down next to her on the couch. He didn't know what to make of it, and looked over at his sister who just gave him a shrug telling him not to worry.

"I'm just going to throw these in the wash…" He said holding up his dirty clothes and pointing towards the laundry room. "Then I'll go check out some hotels." He added as he turned to head down the hallway.

"What?" Both girls asked in unison, effectively stopping him in his tracks.

He turned back to look at them.

"I mean…" Andy said with a slight frown. "It's _your_ house. If anyone should stay in a hotel, it's me."

"I could never..."

"I'm driving back home later today anyway. And this house does have two bedrooms." Sarah said, effectively interrupting him as she had always been so good at doing.

Andy had looked at Sarah as she spoke, and was nodding profusely as she turned back to look at him. "She's right. Stay. I can't take your house away from you."

"Are you sure? I'll be fine in a hotel. It's no problem." He said looking at her, trying to find the slightest sign of hesitation.

Yes, he would like nothing more than to talk to her and convince her that he was the one for her. Living under the same roof would give him that opportunity, but he had only been back for _one_ day, and she had thought he was _dead_ for over 6 weeks.

"Yeah." She said nodding.

He looked over at Sarah, who was giving him an exasperated look saying just-say-yes-already.

He looked back over at Andy. "Are you really sure?"

"Yes, Sam..." She said staring into his eyes with the most sincerity he had ever seen.

"I'm sure."

* * *

><p>The first week had been pretty awkward.<p>

Sam had gotten a week off before starting his shift rotation again, and it happened to be one of the weeks where Andy had a series of night shifts. This meant that they got to spend entire days in the same house awkwardly trying to get into a routine and walking miles around the subject that was on both of their minds at all times:

What was going to happen between them?

Because of this, it had felt good to finally get back to work. To actually have something to do to distract him from the confusion that was his situation with Andy.

They hadn't been partnered together since he had come back. Sam didn't know the reason for it, but figured that Frank was doing what he thought was best.

After having spent another week not addressing the subject, he had decided that enough was enough and that they had to do something.

He had had a long and uneventful day riding alongside Epstein who had been yakking away about something or other. Frankly, he hadn't been paying too much attention. His mind was now tired, and he had a budding headache thanks to the unstoppable stream of empty words.

Needless to say, the first thing he did as he entered the house was to get himself a cold beer.

He held it to his temple trying to cool his head down and still the headache as he walked over and slumped down on the couch in front of the TV. Turning on a random channel, he just sat there staring emptily at the TV while drinking the cold liquid.

He was about half-way through the beer when he heard the front door open.

"Hey." She greeted as she came inside and walked through the living room with her bag to put it in her bedroom. When she came back out, he was still staring emptily at the TV.

"What? Did the cabin rub off on you?" She joked as she sat down on the other end of the couch.

He looked at her and frowned. "What do you..?"

She just lifted her eyebrows and loosely pointed to the TV. His eyes traveled to it to actually take in what he had been staring at for the last fifteen minutes; Fly fishing.

"I swear, I wasn't really watching that." He said as he reached for the remote and changed to another random channel. It changed to National Geographic, which was running a documentary about the forest life in Canada.

He groaned loudly.

"I take it that cabin life didn't change your view of the country?" Andy said, and he could hear the amusement in her voice at his annoyance.

He turned the TV off. "No. It definitely didn't." He sighed.

"What did you do there anyway?" She asked, before she broke into a smile. "You must have done something other than Bob the Builder-ing about."

He had no idea what she was talking about, and ended up just frowning at her.

"You know… Can we fix it, yes we can!" She said, smile still plastered on her face.

He just kept frowning at her.

"Okay, maybe I shouldn't have been babysitting Leo this weekend." She said frowning and crossing her arms as she turned to face the black TV.

They both just sat there staring at it for a while. He wondered if this was the time to start talking, if she would let him talk this time without interrupting him, deflecting or running away.

"Thinking."

* * *

><p>"What?" She asked turning away from the imageless TV to look at him.<p>

"I did a lot of thinking."

"About what?" She wondered if he would actually tell her, or deflect like he had been doing the past week whenever they had gotten onto the subject.

"You."

Apparently he was done deflecting.

Her heart beat faster. Did she really want to do this now? They had been walking around each other for weeks. She had known it was coming, but was she really ready?

"Me… Sarah…" He continued in a low voice.

He sighed deeply, still staring at the black TV screen.

A part of her wanted him to tell her everything he had been thinking of. Another part of her, however, screamed at her to get out of there, to go somewhere far away and escape from what was to come.

"I never realized how I acted until I got to thinking about it. I thought I had made it all so clear, but trust me to not be able to read myself."

She couldn't really understand what he was talking about.

"I was an idiot. Thinking that what I _did_ was more important than what I _said_…"

"… I thought I wanted to go back under. Not that this was a UC op, but still... It was for the good of the case. But every day I just wanted to come back. Every day I just wished I was _here_."

She kept her mouth shut, not only because she was curious as to where he was going, but because she simply didn't know what to say.

"I never thought I could miss anything as much as…"

She knew that he must have felt her staring at him, her eyes were actually getting tired from it, but still, he kept facing the TV, staring at the black screen as if he was watching something interesting.

Then he turned his head, her eyes were drawn to his, and she felt herself sink into the dark pools.

"…as much as I missed you." He said in a low voice.

She could see the sincerity in his eyes as well as a slight hint of fear. What was he afraid of?

* * *

><p>His heart was pounding as he stared into her eyes. They held such wonder, and he wondered if he had said too much, if it was too soon. He was scared that she would tear up again, that she would leave him alone on the couch, and he'd feel abandoned once more.<p>

"I've missed you too." She said in a barely audible whisper.

He couldn't help the smile that took over his face at her words, and his heart was beating even faster, but now for an entirely different reason.

Her expression had still been sad though, and as he continued staring into her eyes, his heart slowed and started feeling heavy.

"I just don't…" She said, her breathing hitching in her throat.

"I just don't know if… If I could handle losing you again." She said looking away.

"I told you already. You're not going to lose me."

Why wouldn't she believe him?

She wasn't even trying to look at him now. She just sat there, head hung low, and he could see tears slowly dripping down onto her thighs. He wanted to grab her and hold her close, but was worried that it might make her even worse.

"As long as I have a say, I'm not going anywhere." He said, trying to convince her. He didn't know what else to do.

She still wouldn't look at him.

His headache from before was coming back, and his eyes were getting heavier as he sat there, half a bottle of beer in one hand, staring at the woman he loved crying, and being unable to do anything to keep her from doing so.

He needed to rest, to clear his head, to get rid of that horrible headache. He got up from the couch.

She didn't move.

"I'm just going to go to bed." He said silently before heading off down the hallway and walking into his room where he laid down and closed his eyes, trying to keep the images of her tears out of his mind.

* * *

><p>It wasn't like she didn't want to believe him. But no matter what she did everyone always seemed to disappear. They had only known each other for two years. How could he know he'd never leave? That he wouldn't be shot, for real, next time? That he wouldn't go away and leave her all alone again?<p>

She couldn't help the tears that were forcing their way out. She didn't want to cry. She wasn't even that sad. She was just so frustrated.

Why couldn't she just accept his words?

Why couldn't she just get over herself?

What was she so afraid of?

She trusted him with her life. She had done so since their first day of working together.

Why couldn't she trust him with her heart?

From what Sarah had told her, he never talked about anything of an emotional nature, yet he had sat there, telling her over and over, time and time again that he wouldn't leave her. Not if he had anything to say on the matter.

Sarah would have told her to go after him. To trust him like he was trusting her.

She dried her eyes with the back of her hand, and took a deep breath. Then she stood up and slowly made her way down the hall towards his room.

* * *

><p>He didn't know what to expect when the door creaked open and she stood there in the doorway.<p>

He sat up on the bed as she walked over to him, looking at her with wonder.

What had happened in the short minutes since he had left her alone?

She put her hands on his cheeks and looked into his eyes, seemingly studying them for any sign of hesitation.

Then she leaned in close, and brushed her lips against his.

If he hadn't looked like a question mark before, he was sure he did now.

Her hands were still on his cheeks when she pulled back, making them feel on fire, and once more, she stared into his eyes.

She just stood there, staring at him. his cheeks getting warmer every second her hands rested on them. He needed to feel her lips on his again, to know that this was real. That he wasn't just imagining it.

He put his hands on her elbows and made them bend, bringing her to him for another, deeper kiss.

The desperate need to feel her mixed with the mass of repressed emotion made his head spin as her hands moved from his cheeks, to the back of his head to pull him even closer.

He poured all of his need and longing into it, making her respond with a low moan of his name as he moved away from her lips to trail kisses down her neck.

* * *

><p>"You know? I kind of like this." She said as she lay next to him in bed, running her fingers over his face.<p>

"I like this too." He grinned, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

She snorted, and playfully slapped his cheek. "I didn't mean _that_." She said with a playful frown, "Though, that's not half bad either." She added with a smile.

She shook her head to remove the images that had crept into her mind.

"I meant this." She said tracing her fingers over the scar on his forehead where the fragment of the blank shot had hit him.

"My scar?" He asked frowning and giving her his you're-really-weird-sometimes look.

"Yeah." She smiled, ignoring the look. "It kind of looks like an A. It means you're all mine."

"Sweetheart, I hate to break it to you, but, apparently, everyone who's anyone, to quote Boyd, has known that for a very long time."

"Well, I still like it. It's like you're branded." She said excitedly with a huge smile.

He frowned at her again, but it quickly turned into a smile as she leaned down to kiss him.

She broke the kiss prematurely with a gasp. "We need to tell Sarah!"

He frowned at her yet again. "Here we are; kissing, and you're thinking about my sister? Should I feel worried?"

"It's just…" Andy trailed off frowning in an attempt to find the right words for what she wanted to say. "It's been hard. She deserves some good news."

"I guess, but that still doesn't explain why you're thinking of her while kissing me."

"Don't be so difficult." She scolded, clearly not having a good reply. "Oh! I know! We should go see her!"

Sam sighed.

"We've just managed to work past well over a year and a half's worth of issues, and now you just want to spend time with my family? Should I be offended?" He asked playfully with a touch of seriousness.

"Come on? Please? Can't we go?" She begged pulling out the Doe eyes.

He sighed admitting defeat. "Anything for you, you know?"

"Oh, I know." She whispered as she leaned in to kiss him again.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Yeah, so that was the official ending! I hope you have enjoyed reading this story, and that it hasn't been too much of an emotional roller coaster;)

As I said in the A/N on the top: I will be posting an epilogue tomorrow, to try and make up for all of the sadness^^

Until tomorrow...

SRSN


	20. Epilogue

**A/N:** Here it is! The final piece;) Hopefully it makes up a bit for all of the depressing heavyness of the rest of the story!

It has been a great couple of weeks posting this story, and I would again like to thank all of you for reading, reviewing, favoriting and alerting!

Enjoy the last part!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Rookie Blue, this is purely written for my own, and other's enjoyment.

* * *

><p>EPILOGUE<p>

Sam had called his sister to figure out when would be the best time for them to come.

"Now." Sarah had said teasingly.

He had rolled his eyes and shook his head, earning an amused smile from Andy who was sitting next to him on the couch.

"All right." He had told her in agreement. "We'll come on the weekend th..."

"Oh, no you won't" Sarah had interrupted. "You're staying for more than a weekend."

"But then we can't come now." He had said matter-of-factly with a smile on his face. "We'd have to take out vacation first and that can take weeks."

She had fallen silent at his words.

"Fine!" She had finally said with annoyance. "Take out vacation then. But I _will_ have a full week, not only five days." She had warned before putting on a sweeter voice. "Now, let me talk to Andy."

"That's nice." He had commented dryly. "Here I am, calling you, my only living relative, to discuss a visit, and you demand to talk to…" He had stopped unsure of what to say. _His girlfriend?_

Were they there yet? Maybe not… He had looked at Andy who had given him a slight frown in return.

"Your girlfriend? Yes, Sammy, put her on!" Sarah had demanded.

He had said his good byes and handed the phone over to Andy, his mind still going a mile a minute trying to figure out if they were at, or when they would get to, that point that he should be calling her his girlfriend.

After they had gotten it all out in the open things had become a lot easier, and the week they had spent together since then had been amazing. They still hadn't been paired at work, but it didn't matter because they went _to_ work together, they came home together, they ate together, they snuggled up on the couch together, and they went to bed together.

In Sam's mind things could not have been more perfect.

Finally getting the girl he had wanted for so long.

The girl he had wanted more than he had ever wanted anyone and anything.

The girl he had no trouble thinking about spending the rest of his life with.

* * *

><p>Andy had, like Sarah, wanted them to go straight away, but he had managed to convince her to let them get accustomed to their new situation first. So now, about a month later, they were, in her mind <em>finally,<em> on their way to St. Catharine's.

He looked over at her from his position in the driver's seat. She had fallen asleep.

He wondered if he was _that_ boring. The drive wasn't that long, and they had even slept in this Saturday. She shouldn't have been tired. But it didn't matter. Yes, it would have been nice to hear her voice as opposed to the droning sound of the motor and the cars passing by, but stealing glances over at her sleeping form was even better.

He smiled to himself as he turned his attention back to the road. They would be there shortly, and he was looking forward to actually watching the two women he cared about most in the world interact. He already knew they were close: Andy talked with his sister more than he did!

He was glad they were, though he wished it would have happened under different circumstances. That he wouldn't have had to pretend to die for it to happen.

She stirred in her sleep, making him look over at her again. He couldn't understand how he could be so lucky as he stared at her. Her relaxed expression of contentment, her wonderful face, her lips… He would have been lying if he had said he hadn't been attracted to her from the start.

What man in his right mind wouldn't have been?

The way she had kicked the door open pushing through the fear he had seen in her eyes, her courage as she had followed him down the fire escape, when she tackled him in the alley and bringing in two criminals on her first day on the job. If he hadn't been so annoyed at the case slipping away when he had been so close to the end of it, he would have been thoroughly impressed.

And then, after having been told off and yelled at she had still been intent on doing her job and came to find him in the locker room. Not even losing face as he undressed in front of her in an attempt to get her to go away.

Well, maybe he was trying to show off a little too.

He smiled to himself as he thought about their first meeting. She had been so annoying, yet there had been something there that just made him gravitate towards her.

When they had been paired the next day he hadn't completely known how to handle it. His mind had still been wrapped up in the Hill case, and then everything with Emily had gone down. And yet again she had impressed him. He had really wanted her that evening in the parking lot. But it hadn't been like the want he had for her now.

He wondered when the simple want and lust had turned into need and love.

He really had no idea. It had all happened so gradually, his protective instincts just taking over when it came to her. He had started wanting to keep her safe, to do anything for her, and somewhere along the line he had found himself unable to stop thinking about her, caring about her in a way he hadn't cared about anyone before.

"What are you thinking about?" Her sleepy yawn brought him out of his thoughts.

"You." He replied, staring ahead at the road.

"Really?" He could hear that she was smiling by the sound of her voice.

"Yeah. Really." He said, glancing over at her before turning his attention back to driving.

"What about me?"

"Oh, this and that." He said with a quick smile in her direction as he switched on the blinkers to make a left turn.

"Are you really going to make me force it out of you?" She asked with a sigh. But he knew she was smiling at the same time.

"Nope."

"Then why didn't you just answer?" She asked. He knew she was frowning in confusion now.

"Because you're not going to know." He chuckled and made another left turn.

"You know I'll get you to tell me some way." She said and he could see her crossing her arms out of the corner of his eye.

"No, you won't." He said playfully.

"Pfft. You know I wi..."

"We're here." He announced turning off the engine and stepping out of the truck onto the driveway. He regretted not having put on a jacket as the cold air of early December hit him and made him shiver.

He ignored his shaking and went to get their bags out of the car.

He heard the front door open and excited screams from both Andy and Sarah, followed by quick steps as they rushed towards each other. They were hugging when he turned around and kicked the car door closed, one bag hanging from each shoulder.

He locked the truck and started walking towards the open door.

"What are you doing?"

He stopped dead in his tracks at the sound of Sarah's voice.

"Don't you even think of going inside without giving me a hug first." She scolded as she walked over to him, a giggling Andy following behind her.

He sighed. "But it's so cold." He pouted playfully.

"Deal with it." She said putting her arms around his neck and giving him a welcoming hug. "Now get inside before you get sick." She said as she released him. "And didn't I teach you to put on a jacket before going outside in the winter?" She scolded at his back as he started walking.

–_This week… _ He thought to himself, as he got inside and put the bags on the floor. He could still hear Sarah and Andy talking away outside and turned around to see if they were going to come inside anytime soon.

Something connecting with his back turned his focus away from the two women.

"Uncle Sam! I'm so glad you're not dead!" Sebastian shouted excitedly into his back, his arms wrapped tightly around Sam's waist.

"Hey, buddy." Sam smiled as he turned around to look at his youngest nephew. "I'm sorry I had to go away like that."

Sebastian's brilliant green eyes beamed up at him, his dimples making deep grooves in his cheeks. "I wanna be just like you when I grow up! Look! I've been practicing!" He said before dropping to the floor and lying completely still.

"Get off the floor Seb." An annoyed voice said, and Sam looked up to see his oldest nephew looking at his younger brother while rolling his eyes.

"Hey, be nice." Sam told him with a small smile.

"All right." Simon said reluctantly. "Just this once." He smiled, winking at Sam. "I'm glad you're back." He continued uncomfortably.

Sam just nodded in acknowledgement.

"Hey, hey, look who the cat dragged in." Jeff said as he entered the hallway to stand behind Simon.

"Yeah, those cats… Can't trust 'em for nothing." Sam smiled as he grabbed the hand Jeff held out and gave him a short hug.

The hallway was already crowded with two big bags, two grown men, a rapidly growing 14 year old and an 11 year old outstretched on the floor, and as Andy and Sarah came inside it was getting quite claustrophobic.

Jeff ushered the boys out into the living room and grabbed one of the bags off the floor as Sam picked up the other one and followed Jeff upstairs to put them in the guest room.

When they came back downstairs into the living room, the boys were playing video games while Andy and Sarah were sitting on the couch talking.

"You want a beer?" Jeff asked putting a hand on Sam's shoulder, effectively bringing him out of the trance-like state he had been in staring at Andy and Sarah.

"Yah, sure." He replied with a smile at his brother-in-law before heading over to the two girls.

He stopped behind the couch, leaning on the back of it next to Andy's shoulder as she was sitting sideways in order to face Sarah completely.

They were engrossed in a conversation about interior design, a topic Sam wasn't the least bit interested in, so he focused on the TV where the boys were playing a hockey video game instead. For an eleven year old, Seb sure could hold his own against his brother, and Sam knew he would have been completely useless if he had even attempted playing.

His arm felt warm, and he looked down to see Andy's hand stroking it absent mindedly. Her touch felt so good that he barely noticed the bottle of beer that was dangling in front of his face.

When he realized what was getting into his field of vision and saw the amused face of his brother-in-law, he stumbled backwards in surprise nearly toppling over, and effectively making all eyes in the room turn to him, three pairs of these shooting him the famous Swarek what-in-the-world-are-you-doing look.

Andy and Jeff were both smiling and trying to contain their laughter.

Sam did a small bow before holding out his hand for the beer.

"We already know you've fallen hard. No need to get all literal about it." Sarah said feigning annoyance as she turned back to Andy to continue their conversation.

He busied himself with his beer, trying to keep the blush he knew was creeping up his face from doing so, and soon everyone's attentions were back at what they had been doing.

* * *

><p>"I love your family." Andy said sleepily as she snuggled up next to him in bed.<p>

"I'm glad." He said with a smile.

She put her hand on his cheek, turning his head to face her. "All of it." She whispered, staring deeply into his eyes.

His smile grew at the sound of her words, his heart beating happily. The look in her eyes told him that those three words were just a stand-in for three others.

She kissed him tenderly before putting her head on his chest. "I wish I had blue eyes like Jeff." She sighed, with a small yawn.

"What? Why? Your eyes are great as they are." He said, running his hand through her hair.

"Because then _our_ kids would have eyes like Seb and Simon too." She must not have been thinking as she said this, because he suddenly heard a small yelp, and felt her breathing stop.

"Our kids will have wonderful eyes. Don't worry." He said reassuringly and smiled at the thought of small mixes of them running around. Then he realized how stubborn and determined they would undoubtedly be, which made his smile shrink somewhat.

"Really?" She asked changing her position so that she could look at him.

He knew she wasn't asking about the color of the eyes.

"Yeah." He whispered.

~THE END~

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** And that's it! I hope you've enjoyed reading my story! Thanks for doing so!

_SRSN_


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